


Shadowed Visage

by CherryJacks



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Background Relationships, Cigarettes, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Five Stages of Grief, Ghosts, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lack of Communication, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Relationship Problems, Supernatural Elements, Unhealthy Relationships, perfectworldshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:43:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 134,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryJacks/pseuds/CherryJacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was the plan, this is what he had wanted. Lysandre created his beautiful world. He only hoped that Augustine would be able to forgive him for what he had to do.</p><p>Now adding illustrations.<br/>Illustrations on Ch. 1, 3, 10, 11,12, and 14.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> I have this story completely plotted out so it's just a matter of me writing chapters in a timely manner and posting. I'm trying to get this story and a couple others done before I start nursing school. Once that happens I'll be dead to the world. 
> 
> I just really love this pairing and I've wanted to write something about them for some time. Unfortunately, I also enjoy stories about the villain being victorious. So that is why this story was brought into the world. It will be dark at times but that is simply because of the nature of things if Lysandre had won.

**Shadowed Visage**

** **

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 The Kalos Professor rose from his desk. Years of research condensed in multiple folders and files were all forgotten as they scattered across the floor of the office. A flash of white from the man's lab coat caught an edge of a picture frame that also joined the chaotic swirl of parchment with a crack. Two men, one much taller with icy eyes and a small grin formed on his thinned lips stood next to a more youthful version of the Professor that was currently causing a storm in the small room. His current expression was an exact opposite of the look he had once held in the photo, Soft grey eyes sparkling with glee and an easy smile to match. The irony of how the glass in the frame cracked was lost on the stumbling man, just left to be discovered later. Another crack of something breaking, a small curse left the man's lips as his Holocaster met the floor with fatal results. It too was forgotten as he scurried out into the hallway and began to desperately jab his nail-bitten finger at the call button for the elevator. Pleading thoughts filled his head, they felt like massive fists striking him relentlessly every time the thoughts flooded his psyche again and again and again.

"I have to stop him."

The thoughts always started like a perfectly timed dance, "I shouldn't have sent the children alone, I should have gone."

(This again?)

The elevator was always abandoned at this point and the Professor would nearly throw himself down the staircase. He would just barely catch himself on the thin railing, but not without rolling his ankle on the descent. More curses, louder this time. He didn't pause though, he had to get to Lysandre.

(I never do. I know this is pointless.)

"I have to get him to stop this, he can't do this."

The final thought was strong with denial, it held the denial even though the thought had played many times before. No matter what it never changed, only the lone witness knew it wasn't true. The Professor didn't completely understand it on the first replay, or even the second. Now that the scene replayed so much, it lost its meaning to the man. He just sat unable to change the outcome, he was helpless to get further. He was about to hit that wall again. He would go back and play it through again and again and again, forever? It seemed this was his moment to relive.

(I don't even make it out the door.)

Ignoring the pain that shot up his leg from his ankle the Professor stubbornly trudged on, the exit was so close he could see it. The door only opened a crack, it felt so heavy.

(Just a bit more, please open the door!)

The burning light caused the Professor to release his hold, as though pushed by a force the door slammed back shut.

(NO! I was so close!)

The light continued to leak in, through the windows and through the thin edge that separated the entrance from the surrounding frame. He pressed his hands across blinded eyes, everything became white. White was soon being overtaken by spots of black, the spots grew larger and larger as pain erupted and burst through the man's thin limbs and core. Small strained whimpers could be heard and it was soon joined by a perish song of others, all of Lumiose sang out their final notes. Then there was silence, the white was completely overtaken by the black.

The Kalos Professor rose from his desk. Years of research condensed in multiple folders and files were all forgotten as they scattered across the floor of the office.

(How many times must I repeat this?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some music that inspired me to write:  
> Woodkid - Ghost lights  
> Les Friction - Who Will Save You Now


	2. "This is adieu to you all..."

It was done, the necessary task that was put on the fiery man's shoulders.

The weight that came from the stress he accumulated finally began to lift itself. A new sensation was soon rushing in to fill the new space. He knew the children that had tried to stop him wouldn't have understood. How could they? They hadn't seen the filth that corrupted the world they lived in like he had. The naivety of youth prevented them from seeing the truth. They couldn't understand that everything had to be cleansed of the corruption and ills that marred its beauty. The weapon was the only way, all other plans to help the world had failed. If only they had accepted his offer, the Professor had seen such promise in their young faces.

Trevor, Tierno, Shauna, Calem, and Serena.

Lysandre would mourn the loss of such young flames. They had passion and strong conviction, such of which that had reminded him of himself. Serena had shown the most promise, her ability to control Mega Evolution had been spectacular to witness. Lysandre remembered feeling pride, much like the Professor's when he had called him to share his student's success. The feeling that struck him now was a complicated mixture that lapped at his heart and twisted in his gut. Each limp body that he passed made the feeling take on a more solid form, it sank like a thrown pebble in a murky pond. He could almost feel the murk latching itself firmly to his chest. Was this guilt?

He knelt down and placed a hand against the cold face of the once determined Serena. Carefully he pressed against her eyelids and brought them shut, this instantly created a look of calm on her face. Lysandre remained crouched down beside her, watching her lifeless face. He knew the peaceful mask was a lie he would simply have to tell himself. He had to tell himself that he made the correct decision. With each child he did the same, leaving them with the same false look of calm.

"I will have them buried." He whispered, "I can't let Augustine see them like this."

It wasn't until he was finally at the surface that the reality sank in. He had won. He did not feel victorious, nor did he feel much shame for his action.

_It was necessary._

_It was needed._

_He saved the world_.

All these things he would continue to replay in his mind like pacifying propaganda. His first glimpse of his new world ushered him in with the familiar faces of his closest subordinates. Bryony and Celosia stood on one side, Aliana and Mable across from them. Xerosic made his way between the lines of "The Chosen" that were lined up to form a path for Lysandre. He stopped and simply reached out his hand, Lysandre gripped it firmly and shook it. There was a nod between the two men, but no words were shared. Each member gazed on at their leader, they were waiting for his words to end the silent evening. Lysandre stood strong, his eyes looked out at the sea of burnt orange-red. It was eerie, the silence. There was a ripple in the sea of flame, uncomfortable movements.

_He saved the world._

_He was a hero._

_This is what he wanted_.

Once his thoughts were collected he spoke, his voice didn't falter it held the same confidence that it had when he had sent his message to the world. The uncomfortable movements he had noticed among the ranks began to calm once his voice washed over the crowd.

"The start of our perfect world has begun. We are now the sole heirs of this planet."

He paused and allowed the crowd a moment to show celebration, "We have much that must be tended to, we have to prove that we are worthy."

Lysandre's face did not betray him to the crowd, only a small tensing of his mouth could give any clue to his current feelings. Only the scientists noted the small facial clue.

"We are the reason for the dead that now litter the streets, we much take reasonability and put them to rest."

Some of the members looked quite pallid at their leader's mention of the dead. How easy it was to forget about the less fortunate. Before the weapon was set to be fired there were many theories about what actually happened to the people that were affected by its life stealing effects. Most had hoped that they would simply disappear, turn to dust and get blown away by a passing breeze. Lysandre had known better than to think it would be so convenient. This was the price to pay for creating a new society, the dead had to be put to rest.

"When the dead are collected and disposed of..." He paused, his mouth felt too dry.

The chosen ones, they stared at him with a spectrum of colored eyes. Most dressed as proud members of Team Flare, all presented to him like a great army. Further back stood the others, they did not wear the same trademark color that bled together in the front of the crowd. These chosen were a collection of different people. Some were families of Team Flare members, others were people deemed worthy of the new world. Doctors, engineers, authors, artists, most were those that had something to offer to the new society. They too stared at the Team Flare leader like a beacon, he was now their king. Lysandre, the king, scanned the eager faces of his subjects.

He was searching for one set of grey eyes, "Once they are deposed of we will began to build our perfect society..." The eerie silence returned.

  
The large bloomed flower of the weapon remained like a great statue, it's glittering crystalline petals caught the sunlight. The slowly dipping light was the only clue that the world continued to turn, unaware of the loss of so many of her children. After Lysandre finished speaking to the crowd he turned his attention to his scientists. The four women were sent off to split the crowd up into teams for the cleanup efforts.

"Collect the bodies and dig a mass grave." His voice had taken on a frigid tone, the scientists remained unfazed.

"Yes Director, it will be done."

Xerosic watched his fellow scientists as they effortlessly divided the sea of followers, they soon left. Only a smaller group remained, Xerosic took it upon himself to order the few remaining to begin a local sweep for bodies. Once that was completed he made his way to Lysandre's side.

Xerosic had to jog to catch up to his boss, Lysandre was making a wide circle around the large petals of the weapon. Once he caught up they continued at an easy pace. They stayed quiet while they walked, Xerosic kept himself in thought as he turned his attention to the ancient weapon. He almost ran into his boss who was suddenly frozen.

Slowly the tall man turned to face his top scientist, "Why hasn't it closed back up I wonder?"

  
Xerosic adjusted his goggles, "That is something I will get a team to begin researching Director."

Lysandre simply nodded, he returned to being transfixed on the towering flower. Xerosic simply observed his boss. He watched patiently as he ran a finger on one of the close structures. His face twisted briefly with confusion. Whatever the Director was pondering was not something Xerosic would pry into, if he felt the need to speak on it he would in his own time. Lysandre then continued his slow walk. The top scientist followed like a shadow, unless Lysandre strictly stated he wished to be alone he would continue to walk with him. Xerosic observed that Lysandre's face would tense occasionally, similar to the moment during his speech. These were subtleties that were rarely missed by the scientist, he took some amount of pride in being able to read small signals. Again the plump scientist was stopped in his tracks by his boss. A pair of bodies blocked the path the two were taking. A male and a female were laid out on crushed grass, they were both wearing similar white outfits with masks covering their faces. Xerosic opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it as he watched Lysandre kneel down next to the couple. Lysandre's hands hovered over the faces of the two masked bodies. His face molded into a noticeable pained expression at how the two appeared to be clinging onto each other before they had met their end.

"Do you think they felt pain?" He spoke with the faintest of a voice.

Xerosic shrugged, not that his boss could see him. The scientist honestly never thought about whether the victims of the weapon would feel any pain, he had decided that he simply didn't care. For the sake of this boss though, he chose his words carefully, "I believe they died quickly Director."

Lysandre didn't respond verbally, he just nodded slightly before gingerly removing the masks of the two victims.

"No..." He choked out.

"Sir?" Xerosic could see that Lysandre was now very noticeably troubled.

The tall redhead slammed his fist into the ground his shoulders shook with a growing rage, "Why are they here!"

"I'm afraid I don't understand, who are these people?"

Lysandre stood to his full height and turned to his scientist, he looked quite commanding over the much shorter man. His gaze went back onto the bodies before he spoke, "Dexio and Sina, Augustine's assistants. They were supposed to be in Lumiose at the Professor's lab."

Xerosic nodded with sudden realization, "Ah, you were hoping to spare them?"

Lysandre at this point was no longer listening to his scientist, "I'm heading to Lumiose, I need to make sure the Professor is safe!"

Team Flare's top scientist stood silently and watched Lysandre storm off with obvious panic in his eyes. Simply with curiosity he studied the frozen expressions of Dexio and Sina. Their faces sculpted with the same panic that the Director now held.

"Hmm." Xerosic sighed, "It appears Lysandre wanted to spare the Professor too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff I played on repeat while I wrote:  
> Les Friction - World On Fire  
> Pretty much just that... I love that song.


	3. Anger and Denial

Xerosic kept his distance from his boss once they entered Lumiose. Lysandre's mission was one that his top scientist was more than happy to have him complete on his own. Besides, Xerosic could feel the anger radiating off the other man during the short drive back into the city.

The dividing screen that was for privacy was immediately put into use after Lysandre sat himself into the backseat of the company car. His body was still visibly shaking, he only spoke to command Xerosic to drive. The scientist ignored his short, cutting tone for the most part. He was far more focused on the fact that he had to drive since the usual driver had not been one of the "chosen". In fact, he had to pull the man out of the car before he could take over as driver.

"He was a gossip and a terrible employee anyway." Xerosic had muttered to himself once he threw the body aside.

Thankfully, driving a car was much like riding a bike. Supposedly, you don't forget. Well Xerosic never rode a bike and driving was not something he usually did, but they did make it without too much damage. It was not from Xerosic's lack of skill to be fair. He had to maneuver around other vehicles that had simply stopped in the middle of the road, can't drive without a live driver. Xerosic wasn't bothered by the many still vehicles. It only proved to be an annoyance to him. Especially when it was accompanied by Lysandre slamming his fist against the screen. Yet another thing he chose to ignore. Even the cursing to go with it was easy to tune out. The scientist was too busy avoiding the multi-car pileup that blocked the entrance to the city. After scraping the side of the company vehicle trying to squeeze through, they finally made it into Lumiose.

Mable met the car just outside the Centrico Plaza. Xerosic had made the effort during the drive to inform her that the Director would be there shortly. Even though she had taken the largest group of members for the cleanup. There had hardly been enough time to make a dent in clearing all the dead. There wasn't a single area in the city that didn't have a body, be it human or pokémon. She did her best to mask her frustrated expression. The Director didn't need to be aware that she was annoyed by his presence. She opened the door for Lysandre who hardly gave her a passing glance before making a beeline towards the Centrico Plaza.

"Director!" Mable began, "Please, Centrico Plaza is not clear."

Lysandre only paused momentarily as though he was considering her words. He then continued at a much faster pace muttering about how it was the fastest way to Sycamore's lab.

She made a noise in protest but was silenced by Xerosic clearing his throat loudly. Mable sighed and clutched a coat she had acquired tightly around herself. It was early November now in Kalos and the cold was beginning to bite at the scientist's nose as the sun dipped lower into the sky. At that moment the street lamps flickered to life. Even the city continued to move forward unaware of what had happened earlier that same day. She passed a glance over to Xerosic, he didn't offer her any explanation for Lysandre. He was far more interested in the fact that one of the radio stations was still playing music. She decided that she had to get back to the task at hand.

Turning to her holocaster she sent out a mass message, "Need more teams here in Lumiose, the city should be the top priority."

After a moment she received messages from her fellow team leaders.

"Mable, how long do you think it will take for this station to quit playing music?"

"Make yourself useful Xerosic!" Mable spat, with that she walked off to join her team.

Xerosic chuckled lightly to himself, "Everyone is in such a bad mood tonight."

 

* * *

 

Lysandre's grueling pace had to slow once he entered the plaza. His pale blue eyes scanned the hundreds of people that were collapsed around the base of the Prism Tower. It appeared that once he had sent out his message many had flocked to the plaza to watch whatever news they could get on the large screens that hung on the tower. The live feed was still being shown on the screen. The body of the reporter slumped over the desk was the only thing that was being shown. If it wasn't for the fact that Lysandre knew that she was dead, you could almost think she had fallen asleep.

There's something that could be admired about the dedication the reporter had to her work. While hundreds to thousands, all of Kalos, watched and clung to the reporter's words like a lifeline; she continued to offer what little comfort she could before the end. Much like the story of the band that continued to play while the ship sank into frigid waters, the reporter had continued. She must have known it was all over, that the end had truly arrived. Yet, for the sake of all that watched she never left the desk.

Carefully, Lysandre stepped around the fallen. He just wanted to get to Vernal Avenue to have a straight shot to Sycamore's lab. Men, woman, and children were all carefully avoided as he walked. Pokémon were curled up next to trainers. Even though the pokémon must have been able to sense what was about to occur, they had stayed by their trainer's side. The loyalty of a pokémon was something that Lysandre knew all too well. The sight made the pokeballs on Lysandre's belt feel like dead weight. Which at this point was exactly what they were. He had already shed his tears for his team, but he knew he would shed more.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lysandre never wanted to treat his team like tools. He respected them too much. They knew what he was planning to do, they even knew what that meant for them. At least he was sure his Pyroar was aware what it all meant. Lysandre remembered trying to explain it to his friend. Even then the tears were forming. Pyroar simply sat near his master and watched him intently. Once Lysandre had finished explaining, he bowed his head with understanding and proceeded to try to comfort his visibly upset trainer. This only made the tears well up more.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Vernal Avenue proved to be much easier to move through. Most of the people were inside the many different shops that lined either side of the avenue. Lysandre passed a fallen woman who had obviously been on a shopping spree. Her many bags and boxes filled with clothes, pokepuffs, accessories, and stones littered the ground around her. This was the only obstacle that he had to sidestep to get around.

The end came so fast for the ones that weren't chosen. Outside of Cafe Classe two women who were previously enjoying some coffee while sitting at a small table were now still. A red beret had fallen off one of their heads and onto the stone sidewalk. A few others looked like they had glanced outside from the shops, curious about what was happening. Some non-natives were dropped in the center of the street. Lysandre couldn't even begin to imagine how confused they must have been.

Now at the end of the avenue, Lysandre stood just outside the grounds of the Professor's lab. The building looked the same as always, like a weapon hadn't just snuffed out the lives of most of the world and all of the pokémon. There was even light radiating from the inside.

"A good sign." He thought.

Now that he had made it to the Professor's lab he felt like his feet were glued in place. It had just dawned on Lysandre that he didn't know what he could possibly say to Augustine. He hadn't really given the Professor a say in whether or not he wanted to be a part of Lysandre's new society. It was something that he had never wanted to ask. He thought that it would be easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission. He knew it was the wrong way to go about it, but he didn't want to hear him say no. The fact that Lysandre was sure he would have told him "no" made it even harder to take any steps toward the lab. Perhaps, Augustine would take pity on him and step out on his own.

After he had sent out his mass message to everyone who had a holocaster, he had sent out another private one. This message was for Augustine only.

_"Augustine, I realize that you may be confused. You may even be angry. Please do as I ask: Stay in your lab, stay away from windows and wait until everything is done. This cannot be stopped. You and your assistants should remain until the world has been cleansed. Afterwards please come to Geosenge. If you do not feel like you can, I will come collect you. I hope that you can forgive me."_

Lysandre still felt sick that Dexio and Sina had been at Geosenge. Surely the Professor hadn't tried to do anything rash. The fact that the children had tried to stop him was proof enough that he had. It was fine, he wasn't angry with the Professor. It made sense that he would have tried to stop the plan. Augustine was well aware of his thoughts about the world, yet he never spoke out completely against his views. He only offered his own views on the matter and praised him for his passionate ones. Augustine always saw beauty even when none remained. Why couldn't he see what Lysandre saw every day?

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

_"Professor, why don't you formally join my organization?"_

_"Mon ami! I share absolutely everything with you don't I? You have fine scientists working for you as it is! I like our relationship how it is, let's not mess with it now!"_

_"As you wish Professor, but you should know you will always be a chosen one."_

_"You flatter me Lysandre, please you must see my newest discovery! Charizard has two mega evolutions!"_

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lysandre wasn't sure if the Professor knew what he had meant. He certainly knew now. All Lysandre could do at this point was find him and beg for his forgiveness. He would see in time that using the weapon was the correct choice.

He stood dumbly outside the lab. Like a child waiting to be scolded for getting bad marks or accidently breaking a window. Of course this wasn't something nearly as trivial. No, he had to look someone he cared for in the eyes and explain to them why he did what he did. He had to do this with full confidence that he made the right decision. The Professor had never challenged his view before, but he was sure that at this point he would. Lysandre knew Augustine was a smart man, he could challenge his reasoning if he really wanted to. That is what scared him the most.

"I'm sorry I didn't give you a choice Augustine, I was too afraid you would say no." Lysandre coached himself on the words he would say.

"This was the only way for all the evils of the world to end."

With a deep breath he grabbed out his holocaster. Mentally he cursed himself for being such a coward. He punched in Augustine's number that he had memorized and waited for the call to go through.

_"Je suis désolé, I'm not available at the moment. Please leave me a lovely message and I'll call you back, au revoir!"_

Hearing Augustine's voice even if it was only his voicemail made Lysandre feel even worse. He ended the call without leaving a voicemail, there wasn't really a point. He would be facing him soon enough. After some calming breaths he made small steps to the doors of the lab. He steadied his quivering hands as they wrapped around the handles. After thinking about what he would say one last time he pulled open the doors and walked in.

With no amount of grace he stumbled and tripped as he entered the ground floor of the lab. Once he collected himself off the floor he turned to see what he had tripped over. It was a body, which wasn't a surprise. Lysandre had seen so many that the faces of the victims were starting to run together in his mind. This particular body wore a lab coat. Again, not all that surprising. Augustine had many staff members that all wore lab coats. Lysandre observed the body a bit longer, he refused to get any closer. Part of him knew who it was, it could only be him. Mustering up some small amount of courage he practically crawled over to the still form. He turned the body so he could see the face. He didn't need to though, the soft black curls could only belong to one person.

At that moment Lysandre forgot every word he had wanted to say. His face lost all color. He just sat there with his knees on the floor, his hand resting on the face of the man in front of him. It was the Professor, but he knew it was. Seeing his face only made it real.

The once powerful looking man became meek, he felt like his heart could stop in his chest. He had so much he had been wanting to say, but now there was no one to listen. His shoulders quaked again, not with rage, but with incoming tears. He pulled the Professor into his arms and there, in the lobby with no other living witness to see him, Lysandre openly wept. The murky feeling that had been building up inside him flooded out all at once. Through his tears he said everything he had ever wanted to say to the man he now held. he repeated over and over how sorry he was, even though he knew Augustine couldn't hear.

 

* * *

 

Any annoyance Mable still held for her boss fell away and was completely forgotten when she entered the South Boulevard. Immediately she ordered the people around her to clear out and sweep elsewhere for bodies. She would not allow anyone to see Lysandre in his current state. There he stood outside of Sycamore's lab. He held the Professor in his arms like he was the most precious thing. Which Mable was sure at that moment, he certainly was. His proud mane of hair drooped in his face. It was not enough to hide the fact that he must have been crying not long ago. He was shivering, but the scientist was sure that it wasn't from the cold.

"Direct... Lysandre." She finally spoke.

She approached, much like one would approach a wounded pokémon. A wounded Pyroar King. His reddened eyes met hers. He took a breath in an attempt to speak, but choked. He turned away, bringing the Professor closer to his chest.

_"This wasn't supposed to happen."_

Hesitantly and with a huge amount of gentleness Mable placed a hand on Lysandre's arm, "Let's get you out of the cold."

She couldn't think of anything else to say, for as long as she had known her boss he never looked as weak as he looked currently. She knew that it would be best to get him away from prying eyes. Even if those eyes were other Team Flare members and faithful, she knew it wouldn't be good for morale for anyone else to see the Leader like this. The group only held its conviction because Lysandre had such a powerful presence. She didn't want members to begin to doubt what had been done.

Lysandre finally nodded. Quickly she lead him down alleyways that she knew no team members were currently sweeping. They passed through the Magenta Plaza and continued into Lysandre's Cafe. Lysandre took a seat in the back corner of the cafe, still holding the Professor. Mable removed her teeth from her lip. She hadn't realized she had been chewing on it the entire walk over from Sycamore's lab. She didn't know what to do, Lysandre still didn't speak. She wished that someone else was in her situation. Surely anyone else could handle this situation better than her. After mulling it over she pulled out her holocaster from her coat pocket. She really hated to admit it, but there was only one person that could help. Quickly she punched in the number and waited for an answer. The hologram soon lit up and Mable was staring at the pudgy frame of Xerosic.

"I'll have you know I'm quite busy as of this moment..." He said with the most sarcastic tone he could.

Mable bit at her lip again, she was beginning to wonder if she should bring him into this. Xerosic then spoke again, his voice much more serious.

"Mable? What is the problem, normally you snap at me. Since you haven't I can only reason that you have contacted me for something serious."

She leaned in close to the hologram, "I need you at Lysandre's Cafe now, alone."

Xerosic looked like he was pondering her statement, "Fine." He answered plainly, then he ended the call.

Mable went to put her device away before she quickly typed out a message.

_"Please take over my group for me, I'm tied up with something important. I'll put you in the loop later. P.S, Keep everyone except Xerosic out of Lysandre's Cafe."_

She hit send, she knew her fellow scientists would ask to be filled in. With this, she knew they were the only ones that could handle the situation. She really hoped they could that is. She joined her boss at the back of the cafe, taking the seat across from him so he could still have some space. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help but stare at the Professor. He looked far more peaceful than any of the bodies that she had cleared. The dead she dealt with were so pale. There was no question that they were no longer alive. The Professor though, he still held some color in his cheeks. Mable blinked and looked closer. If she didn't know any better she could have sworn she saw the flicker of a pulse.

No, she must have just been hoping for it for Lysandre's sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music I rocked out to and made myself sad to for the sad parts:  
> Lana Del Rey - Summertime Sadness  
> Blue - Call Me Call Me from Cowboy Bebop  
> Les Friction - String Theory


	4. Bargaining

 

(What have I done to deserve this?)

The Professor was at that point again, both of his hands were on the door of his lab trying to push them open.

(Please, just open!)

The light was coming. The blinding light that shot through him like heated blades. The light that caused his last words to be nothing but a whimper like that of a babe. Why was the door so heavy? He just wanted to get out of his lab.

(At least let me die out on my pathway!)

The Professor released his hold on the doors to quickly cover his eyes from the blinding light. The pain filled him yet again and his whimpering soon followed. The spots of black filled his vision while he heard the roar of other voices joining his. Then the silence returned.

"I'm at my desk again, I'm so tired of this..."

He paused and looked up, his vision had returned. There he stood still at the door. For the first time he wasn't repeating that last moment.

"What?"

His hands rushed up to his face, he had to feel if it was really him. If he really could move his own body. It had felt like he had been merely going along for the ride. Just observing and feeling his final moment like some form of torture. The Professor inspected the doors that he had been cursing. He held his breath and began to push them open. To his surprise, they moved at his command. Augustine then walked out of his lab for the first time in what felt like a century.

 

* * *

 

Xerosic moved swiftly through narrow alleyways and was soon at the entrance of his boss's cafe. It also held the entrance to the labs, which was more important to him than a coffee shop. Mable had looked far too troubled to be asking him to have coffee with her. He had to admit that he was a strange choice for comfort, which he assumed was what the call had been about. He respected his fellow scientists which was why he agreed to come to Mable's aid. If it was comfort that she did indeed seek from him, she would be sorely disappointed.

While everyone else seemed slightly troubled about the loss of life around them, bothered that their pokémon were now dead in their capsules. Xerosic felt no such things. It was true that his pokémon were now gone and certainly that was a loss, but he knew that would happen. Same thing with the loss of life and the dead that had to be cleared. He knew that was how it would be. He had prepared himself for it so it came as no surprise that it happened. It was the price for the world the Director envisioned and that price had been paid.

Whatever Mable was dealing with he would just explain it to her plainly that it had to be that way. Not everyone could be chosen, not everyone could be saved. He walked into the cafe with full confidence that Mable would come rushing to him, tears staining her face, her blue hair a disheveled mess, and her goggles tossed aside.

He had not factored in the fact that none of that would be the case. Hence why he stood still and rigid in the doorway of the cafe. He scanned the situation before him and tried to think of the best way to approach it. If it had been anyone else showing weakness he could easily scold them and tell them to deal with it. He could not however, scold his boss for such things.

The sight of Lysandre with tears staining his face, his ginger hair a disheveled mess, and clutching the body of the once living Professor Sycamore was not what Xerosic was prepared to deal with.

He finally moved towards the back table, Mable met him halfway.

"What do you want me to do about this?" Xerosic said in a low tone.

Mable peeked back over to Lysandre who failed to acknowledge that Xerosic had entered the cafe, her face was full of pity, "I don't know, please do something. I can't deal with this on my own."

Xerosic couldn't understand what Mable thought he could do that she could not. He wasn't the type to rub someone's back or stroke their hair. He wasn't going to have any sweet words to soothe with. He wasn't going to tell Lysandre that the Professor's death wasn't his fault, because technically it was. Mable continued to watch him with pleading eyes. Even with her goggles still on her face, Xerosic knew what her eyes looked like. He felt his stance on the issue falter ever so slightly. He was going to say something to Lysandre, hopefully something helpful.

The top scientist pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly brought his goggles off his face to rest at the top of his head. He gently pushed past Mable and made his way to stand in front of Lysandre's table.

"Director." He announced.

Lysandre barely looked his way before he looked back down at the man he held.

Xerosic couldn't stand it, this wasn't the man he had followed. This wasn't the great and powerful man that commanded a room when he spoke. This wasn't the man that had thousands of followers, all of which were ready to break down the world and build it back up. What would the masses think of the man that sat in front of him now.

"Director! Stop this nonsense!" Xerosic hissed.

Lysandre's eyes grew wide and he finally looked up and held his gaze with his top scientist. Mable couldn't believe what she was seeing. She couldn't believe that Xerosic could speak in such a way with their leader like he was.

He wasn't done it seemed, now that he had Lysandre's attention he planned to say so much more. He would admit later that his outburst may have come from some pent up frustration he had been bottling up throughout that day. There was no backing down once the words flowed and buffeted the slouching man across the table.

"You are supposed to be above this! So many have died for your dream to come true! This one man is going to break you down and turn you into the pathetic thing that is in front of me now!"

Xerosic was practically vibrating from outrage, "You are supposed to lead us all in building this world of yours! You can't just crawl into a corner and cry because... because your boyfriend didn't want to keep his ticket!"

That last statement caused something to stir inside Lysandre. He rose and delicately placed the Professor down on one of the chairs. Mable rushed over with haste to help support his body so he wouldn't fall. She couldn't help but note now that the Professor was pressed against her, that he even felt warmer than the other bodies she had handled. She didn't think on it any further, it had to be from Lysandre holding him this entire time.

Xerosic seemed pleased with himself that he had caused some reaction from his boss, whatever was about to occur had to be better than him pouting in a corner.

Lysandre cleared the table to get his hands on the loud-mouth scientist. He dug his fists into the lapels of the man's jacket while he lifted him effortlessly off his feet. He only held him momentarily before throwing him towards the counter at the opposite wall. There was a loud crash as he hit the cash register, knocking it onto the tiled floor. It made a chiming noise as the cash drawer came loose and caused the paper bills that were held inside to scatter around the space where it landed.

Xerosic let out a wheezing grunt as he settled onto the floor. He could feel that the glass lenses of his goggles had shattered on impact and some of the shards had dug into his scalp. One of the nastier cuts was bleeding quite profusely and was making a path between his eyes and down the side of his nose. He watched a couple scarlet dribbles make a mess on the floor of the cafe before he started to laugh quite forcibly.

Mable sat motionless, she was still trying to process what had just occurred in front of her. The way it looked, Lysandre had just attacked Xerosic and appeared to have injured him quite badly. Yet, the strange pale man laughed like he was having the time of his life. This was not the proper reaction for someone with a bleeding head injury. Though, it had just occurred to Mable that Xerosic could have sustained brain trauma. Him laughing like he was wouldn't seem as strange if he did indeed have a brain injury from meeting the cash register with the force he had.

Lysandre appeared to be equally puzzled by his top scientist's reaction to what he had just done.

So the strange scene in the cafe was as followed: Mable sat petrified with the lifeless body of Professor Sycamore leaning against her frame. Her face was painted with a horrified expression towards her fellow scientist. Lysandre was also looking at the scientist in question with a look of pure confusion. Xerosic simply continued to laugh. The more he looked at the two, technically three, people in front of him the funnier he found the whole thing.

"Well, that is better than you crying." Xerosic chuckled out.

He observed Lysandre clenching his jaw while he spoke.

"Oh Director, please don't harm me again. I believe that once my adrenaline wears off I'll be in quite a lot of pain."

He tapped his chin like he was in thought, "Might even have a concussion, good thing we have some doctors that were deemed worthy of your world."

He made sure the last part of his statement was filled with a good amount of mockery. Even though he sat on the floor bleeding, Xerosic wasn't about to back down.

"You are making a fool of yourself." Lysandre responded, his jaw remained stiff while he spoke.

"I am? Sir you must be mistaken, you are the only fool I see here."

"Lysandre stop!" Mable screamed as her boss grabbed Xerosic yet again and yanked him roughly to his feet.

She wanted to stand and try to keep her boss from causing Xerosic further harm, but was unable to. The Professor was heavier than she realized and she couldn't move without him slumping over and meeting the floor.

"Stop this both of you! Xerosic I called you to help, and this isn't helping! Lysandre, what would the Professor say if he saw you like this!"

Mable did her best to keep herself collected as the two men now stared at her direction. Xerosic, despite his horrible appearance, looked pleased that Mable had spoke up. Lysandre on the other hand, appeared disturbed that she had mentioned the Professor. He released his vise-grip on the scientist and made his way around the table. He lifted the Professor back into his arms, freeing Mable so she could stand. Then he simply stared at her. Though Mable was certain that he wasn't trying to look into her eyes, but was in fact catching his reflection in her goggles.

In the nicest way possible Mable thought Lysandre looked dreadful. His hair was no longer in its perfect points, his beard was not neat and perfectly groomed, the fur trim of his jacket was flat, his pants were dirty from kneeling on the ground, he was missing a glove from throwing his top scientist, and his face was red and blotchy.

All of this was what he saw reflected back at him and Lysandre could see what Xerosic had meant.

"I'm sorry, Xerosic." He said, tilting his head towards the other man, "You are right, I am not acting how a leader should."

Lysandre turned his attention back to Mable, "I should apologize to you as well, you should not have had to deal with me like this."

He closed his eyes briefly and took a labored breath, "I believe Augustine would have been disappointed to see me lose my passion."

He continued, bringing the Professor closer to his chest, "Even though I am certain he would not agree with what I have done, I believe fully that he would not want me to give up."

Mable removed the goggles from her face, her eyes were puffy and red from her own silent weeping. She left her eyewear on the table and walked over to her boss. This time she wasn't as hesitant, her dainty fingers lovingly caressed Lysandre's hand that was supporting the Professor's head. She thought of sweet things she could say, words that may bring further comfort to the tall man. Instead everyone allowed the silence to creep into the space. Mable's light touch appeared to be enough for now.

The silence was abnormal. Lysandre had noticed that fact before. It wasn't until he was standing in the cafe that he finally figured out why the silence was so strange. Sounds like birds chirping, far away voices, cars driving the streets, shoes hitting the pavement, the type of sounds that would blend together as white noise and not be easily noticed were now completely absent.

This made other sounds far more apparent. A shard of glass falling from Xerosic's head and meeting the floor, Mable's fingers brushing his skin, his own heart beat still trying to regulate, and the faintest release of a breath.

Lysandre's own breath hitched and Mable had stopped stroking his hand, they both eyed the Professor. If it wasn't for the fact that they had both heard it, Lysandre would have thought he was becoming mad.

Sometimes when you wish something turned out differently, you create situations in your head that it is. Sometimes you forget that life isn't a perfect love story or a fairy tale. A true love's kiss won't wake the dead not matter how much you wish it would. You can wish until you feel like your insides can't coil any tighter. Sometimes the fact that a body will release what can sound like a breath or a gasp will be lost on ones that wish that it was a breath of life.

Xerosic was not someone who was going to fool himself. He could only shake his head and continue to nurse his head wound while he watched Mable and Lysandre try to wake the Professor. He did not watch the display for too long. After his bleeding relented somewhat, he joined the others who were fussing over what Xerosic would still call a corpse.

"You two are letting your emotions take you for a ride." He uttered with no hint of his mockery or malice. He was simply stating what he thought.

There was only one way to put the issue to rest he realized. Not caring how the others would react to his sudden movements towards the Professor, he hovered the back of his hand over the Professor's mouth and placed two of his fingers to the side of the man's neck to feel for a pulse.

After a second he began to monologue while he still held his hands in place, "The weapon does not do things in half measures. Even if it was your intent to spare his lab all he would have to do it be exposed to the radiating light of the beam to be affected. I almost hate to be so frank, but he is dead. He is most certainly, without any doubt whatsoever from myself very very ver..."

Xerosic was suddenly at a loss for words. It was faint, so much so he had almost missed it. A flicker, more like the lightest quiver of a pulse kissed his fingertips. He held them in place to make absolutely sure he was not becoming as insane as his companions. The lightest flick struck them again, accompanied by a whisper of breath against his hand.

It was Lysandre who finally supplied the words that were being left to hang, "He's alive."

Xerosic nodded, with the new evidence that had been found he was unable to argue. He shuttered out a breath and faced Mable who was wide-eyed with disbelief.

"Call the others, tell them to bring a doctor."

The next words were for his boss, "We should take him to the lab, I need to run some scans."

Mable was left to stand alone in the cafe while the others traveled down the staircase and into the lab below. She was sure she looked a sight, but at that moment she didn't care. With her holocaster in hand she prepared a conference call, better to inform the others all at once. One by one her fellow scientists' holograms lit up. Once everyone was present and attentive, Mable cleared her throat and told them everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More music I listened to while I wrote:  
> Imagine Dragons - Bleeding Out  
> Les Friction - Torture (I really like Les Friction)  
> Imagine Dragons - Monster


	5. Signs of Winter

_"Pro..e..or.."_

_"Can.....he..r...me?"_

Augustine felt like he had stepped into a surreal copy of the city. He was on the streets of Lumiose, that much he could tell. It didn't look how he remembered, the colors were far more contrasted than normal. Buildings appeared painted in shadow and drained of luster. The bright "City of Light" had lost all of its magic, it simply looked bleak.

There were only the occasional whispers around him. Voices, both familiar and not, whose words he couldn't make out. Other sounds permeated the stillness as well. They were like tiny sections of a tape being played on a cassette. They were short, fragmented and inanimate.  

He looked at the Prism tower off in the distance, something about it seemed off. It looked like it was being projected against the grey skyline like an old grainy film. A film that was cut poorly and would skip between scenes. Brief flashes of visions would catch his eye, they were gone as soon as his brain registered anything had been there in the first place. 

Was that the giggle of children, the usual sounds of a cafe, clanking glasses and dishes being collected by busboys, people gossiping about the latest rising star?

He was sure he had just heard the chirps and rustle of wings of some Fletchling in a nearby tree. He tried to track the fleeting sounds. He only found that the tree branches were barren and shadowed cafe held no life.

 He was no longer in pain, he didn't have to feel his nerves light up every time he was forced to endure the sensation again. The arduous mental task of experiencing what he could only reason was his demise was over.

Augustine was thankful for that, but now that he stood outside his lab he didn't know what to do. Even with the brief sounds and images to break up the grim city, he felt completely alone.  

_"w..ke...up."_

 

 

* * *

 

Aliana was the first to get to the cafe. She was soon followed by a thin blonde man, who Mable assumed to be the doctor. He adjusted his wire-framed glasses and let loose his jacket he had been holding shut to protect his body from the cold. He had with him a large leather bag of medical supplies.

Aliana immediately rushed to Mable's side, "Mable, this is Doctor Duval."

Doctor Duval nodded to acknowledge the blue-haired scientist and proceeded to walk to the back where the stairs were located and wait patiently for guidance.  Aliana looked torn as she passed her glance between the two people in the cafe. Mable placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

"Go, you need to show the Doctor the way to Xerosic's lab."

The redhead nodded gravely and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Join us right when the others arrive."

"Of course, go."

Mable watched the stairs until Aliana and the Doctor were no longer in sight. She clutched her own jacket around herself. It really was beginning to get frigid. The sun had set long ago at this point. Mable had to stifle a yawn that tried to escape. The entire day had proved to be exhausting, both physically and mentally.

As bad as it had been for her she could only imagine how much worse the Director must have been feeling. She imagined currently, he may be feeling hopeful actually. She still couldn't believe that the Professor may have survived the weapon. How he survived it she still couldn't imagine, their research had been so precise. She knew Xerosic wouldn't be sleeping, he would have to figure out what strange anomaly had occurred. She had to admit, she wanted to know as well.

Bryony and Celosia had been further out when she called. Even then, she hoped that they wouldn't be too much longer. She wanted to get down to the lab, back at Lysandre's side, by the Professor, even Xerosic, and she wanted to get back to Aliana. Much like Bryony and Celosia, Mable was very close to Aliana. They typically shared everything with one another and she was happy to have someone she could count on. Mable hoped that her friend wouldn't be upset that she hadn't called her first.

A blast of cold air caught Mable off guard. Bryony and Celosia had finally arrived.

"It's snowing!" Bryony announced in a frustrated tone.

Sure enough Mable could see the white flakes spiraling in the wind. Signs of winter were already making themselves known. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much snow fall, the cleanup efforts were already slower than previously expected.

"Who did you leave in charge?" Mable asked her fellow scientists.

"Malva." Celosia answered while she brushed snow out of her hair.

The other two women grimaced at the name's mention. Even Celosia who had said it looked displeased about it.

"She doesn't know what's going on I hope..."

"No." Bryony replied, "She was curious, but I did not give her any information."

"She said she would get it out of Lysandre later if she had to. She was not happy with us withholding information from her." Celosia added.

"Arceus, I hate that woman." Mable spat.

Everyone in the cafe nodded in agreement with Mable's statement. They couldn't continue to bad mouth at that time. They all had somewhere else they needed to be.

 

* * *

 

It was a simple elevator ride to Xerosic's own private lab. Being the top scientist of Team Flare had its perks and his lab had been one of them. The injured scientist swiftly cleared his work station. Notes that detailed the weapon in Geosenge and some of his own research, which included a type of suit he had wanted to build at one time, made a mess on the floor.

Lysandre wrinkled his nose. It wasn't at the mess that was just made, but rather at the fact that he was expected to place the Professor on a cold table.

Xerosic huffed, "This isn't a hospital! We can get something set up that is more to your liking later!"

The Professor was placed on the table, though Lysandre continued to support his head.

Xerosic had a half a mind to say something about his behavior, but the pain (that he was becoming all too aware of) stayed his words. Besides, he couldn't say that Lysandre was making a fuss over a corpse anymore. He had felt the signs of life for himself. He was not excited about the idea of the Professor being alive, however.

 It wasn't for hatred of the man. Xerosic had nothing against him. His research on Mega Evolution was very well executed and thought out. There were many times that he enjoyed sitting back and reading one of his published reports. It just didn't make any sense for a man with his skills to exist in the new society. He was a pokémon Professor and now he would be a Professor of nothing. What could he possibly offer? Sure, he would give Lysandre companionship and that was all well and good. From what Xerosic could gather the two men seemed to have the most in common when they talked about pokémon. With pokémon being extinct now, what would there even be left between the two of them?

These thoughts were cleared once Aliana entered the lab with the Doctor. Doctor Duval seemed eager to prove himself in front of Lysandre. He was swift once he saw the man sprawled out on the table. His stethoscope was collected from the bag. He looked over at Lysandre for some sign of confirmation before he unbuttoned the Professor's shirt.

Doctor Duval began to listen to the Professor's heartbeat. While he did this he watched the seconds tick by on his wristwatch. He tried to ignore the three pairs of eyes that were observing him with an unsettling amount of intensity. Of course the piercing blue eyes of his leader were impossible to ignore. He could practically feel Lysandre's breath at the back of his neck while he took vitals. If it had been anyone else he would have told them to give him space, however he wasn't going to say that to the giant of a man that had just wiped out most of the planet's population. Once he was done with that he began to check the man's blood pressure. He held the end of the stethoscope on the inside of the Professor's elbow while he caused the blood-pressure cuff to tighten around his bicep. The Doctor watched the dial on the cuff intently while he slowly released the pressure.

"I apologize, but what is his name?"

"Professor Augustine Sycamore." Xerosic piped up when Lysandre was too slow to respond.

Duval nodded and turned back to the Professor. He leaned over the body and began to speak, "Professor? Can you hear me?"

No verbal response, There was just a slight twitch of one of the Professor's eyelids. Upon seeing this the Doctor carefully opened his eyes to shine a light in them. The light was soon clicked off and returned to his bag along with the rest of his supplies.

"Perhaps if you spoke to him?" Duval directed to Lysandre.

The Doctor had no prior knowledge of Lysandre's and the Professor's relationship, but he was sure they were friends. Once he saw his leader tenderly stroking the man's cheek and running one of his curls through his fingers, he revised his stance on the nature of their relationship.

"Wake up." He began, Lysandre's voice was subdued and sweet. It held some undertones of pain when there wasn't a response from the Professor.

"Wake up..." He tried again, this time he shook the Professor slightly. There was still no response.

Lysandre's breathing had become choppy and sporadic, he pulled away from the table and began to pace around the lab. He couldn't understand why he wouldn't just wake up. This was a joke, it had to be. Lysandre ran his fingers through his limp hair. Somewhere, someone had to be laughing at him. His eyes narrowed at the idea of this being a sick joke. If it wasn't a joke then he was being punished. That thought didn't sit well with him either.

 

* * *

 

**(One year and six months before the weapon fired)**

 

"Wake up."

Augustine had fallen asleep at his desk again. To the witness who was attempting to stir him, this was not a strange sight.

"Wake up, Professor. I am beginning to regret having extended an invitation to you for today."

Augustine finally began to wake. He was not the most charming looking individual that morning. A paper from a report he had been thumbing through had been drooled on while he slept and was still stuck to his face. He swatted it away without much care and turned his attention to the man who was towered over his desk.

"Coffee..." He pleaded.

Lysandre had to use a huge amount of will power to not roll his eyes at the Professor. He was not feeling up to exercising patience that morning. He proceeded to hook the Professor's arm in his own and lift him from his desk.

Augustine allowed himself to be taken away and out of his office. The pair paused at the elevator and waited for it to be called. Lysandre wasn't in the mood to carry him up a flight of stairs.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

He had done it before, not that the Professor had remembered.

They had returned together from the launch party for the holocaster. Augustine took part in the revelry quite readily and had to be assisted to and from the cab. Lysandre was annoyed to find that the elevator was down for maintenance. After taking the first flight with Augustine hanging off of him and tripping over every other step, he swept him off his feet and proceeded to carry him.  Sophie, one of the assistants in the lab met them on the staircase while he held him bridal style. She opened her mouth to say something, but was hushed by Lysandre's cold stare. She huffed and shook her head and proceeded past them.

She never brought it up to Lysandre's knowledge, but he found himself getting quite annoyed by her constant judgmental stares every time he came to the lab after that point. Once his plans for his new society were beginning to piece together he made a mental note that she would **not** be one of the chosen.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Augustine's living quarters that were provided to him by the city were tucked away on the fourth floor of the lab. Once the pair had entered, Lysandre shooed the Professor away to get him to go clean himself up and get dressed into some fresh clothes. Augustine moved willingly once the promise of coffee being brewed was made. The sound of his shower running and his voice belting out some popular made-for-radio song joined the other noises that bounced around the small apartment. The coffee maker gurgled and bubbled while it worked. Lysandre made sure to put in an extra scoop before he set it to brew. The Professor liked to drink coffee like mud when he hadn't gotten the necessary amount of sleep. Lysandre glanced at the two mugs he set out on the counter. He grabbed the red one, his favorite, and carefully returned it to its home in the cabinet. He had changed his mind about partaking of any of the coffee he was making.

There was a squeak from the water being switched off. After another minute or two the Professor emerged. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was in the process of toweling off his hair with another. He tossed the head towel to his nearby couch and held out his hands.

"I can't go on mon ami! I'm afraid only coffee can save me now."

Lysandre smirked at the display and poured some coffee into Augustine's favorite mug. It was an old light blue mug with crudely painted faces of all the Eevee evolutions, well almost all of them. Being as old as it was, it was missing the pink face of Sylveon. Lysandre was pretty sure that this fact was the reason Augustine favored the childish mug so much. He had been one of the people to help confirm that Eevee did indeed have another evolution.

"Go get dressed, then you can have this."

Augustine made a face like he had just been insulted, though the chuckle in his voice quickly gave him away.

"Why would you pour me some only to deny me of it?" He took on a serious stance, which was impossible to take seriously since he stood in only a towel.

"This way you will hurry, your coffee will get cold if you don't."

"Mon dieu! You are the mastermind of evil!" He turned to head into his bedroom. Before he disappeared inside, he turned towards the red-head and waggled his eyebrows at him as he let his towel fall away. Lysandre had to dodge the surprisingly well thrown towel before he caught a glimpse of the man's bare ass vanishing behind his bedroom door.

Lysandre felt some heat rise to his cheeks, "That man is impossible."

He placed the tacky mug on the counter and looked at the time on a pocket watch he kept in his breast pocket.

"Not enough time." He sighed while he watched the bedroom door a bit longingly.  

Lysandre had closed the distance from the kitchen to the bedroom door when Augustine finally emerged. He beamed at the other man and gave him a wink, "Were you trying to peek on me?"

The cup of coffee was pushed into the Professor's hands and Lysandre turned so he wouldn't see his blush spreading. Augustine laughed cheerfully and took a careful sip from his mug before he took a much larger gulp.

"Ah, this is so strong and awful!" He playfully scratched at Lysandre's back, "It's exactly what I needed, thank you."

The pair moved over to the small couch and sat together while Augustine continued to suck down his caffeine. He snorted into his cup and quickly set it down before lifting both his feet onto the coffee table in front of him.

"Look! I'm wearing your favorite color today!"

Lysandre gave the other man a light shove once he caught the sight of his socks. The socks had become a bit of an inside joke between the two of them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 Lysandre was always trying to get him to wear something other than blue button-up shirts and lab coats. He wanted him to at least try to add some stylish pieces to his drab work attire. So it started with a belt that Augustine happily added to his wardrobe. After that, Lysandre had bought him some new pairs of pants, that fit quite close to his body he couldn't help but notice.

The socks came later, boxed with articles of clothing that all burned with the same signature color. Augustine couldn't think of when he would ever wear such an ensemble, but he chose to wear the socks. The next time Lysandre saw him he was wearing his usual blue button-up tucked into his slim cut pants, he had the belt that was gifted to him on as well, and his starch white lab coat layered on top.

"I'm sure you do own shirts of other colors, in fact I know you do." Lysandre scolded.

"But blue looks so good on my skin, besides..." He lifted his pant leg to show off the reddish-orange socks, "I added some of your flair!"

Even with Sophie's judging eyes on them, Lysandre actually laughed, "That you did Professor."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lysandre flipped open his pocket watch and stood abruptly while he pocketed it.

"I'm afraid we must be on our way this instance."

Augustine finished the last dregs of this coffee and rose from the couch as well. He wandered to the kitchen and rinsed out his mug and placed it at the bottom of the sink.

"What was this about again?" He asked while he retrieved his brown loafers and slipped them on his feet.

"The cafe Professor, the opening of my cafe..."

"That is today!" He hustled back into his bedroom and after some loud rustling from his closet, he returned with a camera strapped around his neck.

Lysandre raised an eyebrow at him, "What is that for? There will be plenty of reporters taking photos I'm sure."

Augustine smiled meekly while he wandered back to Lysandre's side, "Oui, I know."

He laced his fingers in between his, "I want someone to take a picture of us together though."

Lysandre leaned forward so he could press a warm kiss against Augustine's lips. He felt accomplished when he pulled back and noticed that he had caused the Professor's face to turn rosy.

"I'll make sure someone takes one for you then." He purred.

The two men left the lab together after Augustine informed his assistants that he would be away. They hailed a cab and were soon surrounded by a crowd of people all wanting to be the first inside the new establishment. Reporters flocked around Lysandre, they all wanted to know why the inventor of the halocaster felt the need to open a cafe.

Augustine's smile never left his face while he watched Lysandre effortless address the reporters. The entire event had been a huge success. Once the chaos had died down, the two of them stood together outside the cafe and smiled for the photo that the Professor wanted. 

Later on, Lysandre would discover that Augustine had the photo framed and kept it in his office on the desk. Every time he saw it he would remember how happy they had been that day and it warmed his heart that that day had been precious to the Professor as well.

 

* * *

 

Doctor Duval waited patiently for Lysandre to calm himself down. After he had taken some calming breaths he returned to the table and wrapped his gloveless hand around one of the Professor's.  He rubbed little circles near the other's thumb while he looked at the Doctor, expecting him to speak.

Duval cleared his throat and began to give his findings and suggestions for the next course of action.

"Even though this is probably quite apparent, the Professor is in a coma. From his lack of reaction to touch and sound I have determined that it is a very serious one."

He paused to feel out the reaction in the room. Everyone had their attention fully on him now so he continued, "He scored as low as you can possibly score according to the Glasgow Coma Scale, but his score could improve with time. His blood pressure is abnormally low, which wasn't a surprise. His breathing and heart rate are also very low and nearly nonexistent. It does not surprise me that he was confused for dead."

He paused briefly again which allowed Lysandre to speak.

"What is it that you would suggest be done, Doctor?" He asked stiffly.

"He needs to be set up in a proper hospital setting, something long term. I will check his O2 levels, but I'm sure they are much too low."

 He pointed to the Professor's fingernails that were a slight bluish color, "He'll need to be put on some oxygen and possibly a respirator. I will also get him set up with an IV for fluids and we will have to get him set up with a feeding tube and other necessities."

"When do you think he will wake up?" Lysandre sounded exhausted at this point.

Doctor Duval thought about his words for a moment before he answered, "Someone that is in a coma doesn't really wake up, they simply become more aware. At least, that is what we hope. I won't lie to you, he may not become more aware. All that can be done for him is to keep him stable and hope that he does."

Lysandre grit his teeth until his jaw was sore. A few more calming breaths and he spoke again, this time to the room, "Let us get him moved to a more suitable location. Xerosic make sure we have all the necessary equipment moved in for his medical care."

"Of course Director, I'll get right on that after..."

Everyone turned to the chubby scientist who was now digging underneath one of his lab stations that wasn't acting as a bed for the Professor. He pulled out a device and set it on the table ahead of him. It was a two part device. It had what looked like a tube with a wire attached to what could be mistaken as an old radio. Everyone in the room, except the Doctor and the unresponsive Professor, knew what the device was for.

"Honestly Xerosic, can't this wait?" Aliana asked.

"No, it really can't. Besides the Director hasn't said anything against it yet." Xerosic glanced over at Lysandre who nodded for him to continue.

"Doctor, everything you've said is all well and good but you failed to take into consideration the cause of the Professor's coma. If we are dealing with what I think we are, you may have to rethink your thoughts on this man waking up on his own."

"Xerosic will you get on with it." Lysandre spat.

Xerosic brought the device over to where the Professor was laid out and switched the device on. Instantly it began to make rapid clicking sounds while he ran the tube over the Professor's body. He peered at the larger part of the device that held its readout.  

"Well that is about what I wagered, but I can't be certain until I compare it to another body..."

"What is he doing?" Doctor Duval asked Lysandre quietly.

Lysandre answered without switching his gaze, "He is using a Geiger counter to check the body for radiation."

The Doctor's face paled, "The Professor is irradiated? Is that safe for us?"

Again, Lysandre answered without looking at the Doctor, "Most likely irradiated and yes."

"How do you know?" Duval muttered back.

"He doesn't." Xerosic chimed in, "Since this is radiation caused by the weapon that killed most of the population, it is probably horribly dangerous. Isn't that fun?"

The Doctor's gaze lowered and he went silent.

Xerosic gave a toothy grin and then turned to Aliana, "Would you be a dear and go get me a body to compare my findings to?"

Aliana looked absolutely disgusted by the request, "Absolutely not!"

The top scientist shrugged and then looked as though he had an epiphany, "Oh how could I forget..."

He grabbed at one of the pokeballs on his belt and tossed it onto the floor.  It was at that moment that the rest of the scientists entered the lab. Everyone collectively let out a horrified gasp at what Xerosic had just done.   

After a brief flash of red light, what had once been the scientist's Malamar was nothing more than a large limp mass of tentacles. Immediately Xerosic began to take readings from his dead pokémon all while ignoring the shrieks from his fellow scientists.

"Xerosic!" Lysandre boomed, "This is too much, show some respect!"

 Mable quickly crossed the lab and joined Aliana who was shielding her eyes from the dead pokémon that had suddenly appeared in front of her. Bryony looked like she wanted to throttle the top scientist, but had to comfort Celosia who looked like she was about to be sick. Doctor Duval kept his gaze down at his patient. Any fear he may have had about radiation was thrown out the window once a dead pokémon was essentially thrown onto the floor. Something with the way it struck the floor had the Doctor's stomach twisting in knots.

"Interesting!" Xerosic called out.

"It had better be!" Lysandre fumed while he approached the scientist and his pokémon. He leaned in close so only Xerosic would hear what he had to say.

"I promise you that a hospital room will have to be set up for you if you do not quit pushing your luck today."

Xerosic ignored the threat and gave his results, "I can't determine if it is the same type of radiation with this device, but the levels are nearly the same."

"Your point?" Lysandre asked while he stood back to his full height. This was going to be the last thing he would allow the scientist to speak before he was going to ignore him and get the Professor moved to his new location.

"My point is that the good Professor was struck with the weapon, though possibly only briefly. You had set it to miss the lab correct? I'm guessing you found him near a door or a window, the poor sod probably opened it at the wrong time."

"How does this information change anything?" Doctor Duval uttered, "It doesn't change what I've said already, in time we may see him become responsive."

Xerosic laughed, "Yeah if we were dealing with a normal circumstance."

He turned to face his boss, "Forgive me but you need to hear this: You know what the weapon does and did. It sucked out the life of those that we did not take certain actions to make sure wouldn't be affected. The Professor was hit and I can only reason that some part of his life force was stolen. He may not be dead, but he is certainly not up and kicking."

Xerosic turned to the doctor one last time, "That cannot be cured with your medical knowledge."

"Enough!"

Lysandre turned back to the Professor and lifted him from the table. He motioned for the Doctor to follow him and soon they had were standing at the entrance to the lab.

"Xerosic we will talk later." The Director's tone had a hint of viciousness when he addressed the top scientist.

"The rest of you, I will be needing you to assist me in getting the Professor's room set up to Doctor Duval's requirements."

One by one the others left the lab leaving Xerosic alone, except  Mable who had returned to stand in the doorway. She watched him carefully while he attempted to recall the body of his Malamar into its pokeball. It was a pointless endeavor however, apparently once a dead pokémon is out of its ball there was no putting it back.

Mable didn't know why, but she felt pity for her fellow scientist. Even though he acted like he wasn't bothered by anything, now that he thought he was alone he tenderly held one of the limbs of his Malamar. He was speaking to it in a language she couldn't understand, but from the tone it sounded apologetic. She thought about approaching him at that moment, helping him pull some of the tiny shards of glass from his scalp and cleaning up his wounds. Instead she chose to leave him to have his moment. Quietly she turned on her heels and headed down the hall to where the others disappeared to.  

It was right as Mable left that Xerosic noticed that she had been standing in the doorway watching him. Even though he would never admit to her, part of him wished she had stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played music nonstop while I wrote this, here are just a few examples:  
> Bastille - No One's Here To Sleep  
> Starset -My Demons  
> Bastille - Things We Lost In The Fire (I listen to a lot of Bastille too...)  
> Panic! At The Disco - Casual Affair (I abused the replay button on this one)
> 
> The Glasgow Coma Scale judges the patient on eye response, verbal response, and motor response.


	6. Everybody's Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets into some description of care involved with a completely dependent patient. I don't think it will be very bothering, but I wanted to make a mention of it. There is a scene that could be seen as possible sexual manipulation. It does not get into detail, but there is hints to it.

**(One month after the weapon fired.)**

"Is this your full report?"

 Mable was standing in Lysandre's office that he kept in his own section of the underground labs. She nodded while she continued to admire his taste of decor. It was a large office with high ceilings, the walls were papered with rich red tones that were complimented with crown molding. A collection of intricately carved wooden chairs were placed near the entrance, she hadn't bother to grab one to sit. There was a bookshelf brimming with an assortment of books with a variety of colored leather spines. An antique upholstered loveseat served as a sitting area in the far corner of the room. Past that was a door that entered into Lysandre's own private chambers.

 He had housing outside the labs, but had officially moved in to be closer to the Professor and watch over his continued care. At least that was what Mable assumed was the reason. Ever since the day the Professor had been discovered very little was discussed about the subject. Lysandre felt more comfortable keeping any news of his care between himself and the Doctor. As it stood, only those that had been in attendance at Xerosic's lab knew of the situation in regards to the Professor. Even Malva, staying true to her threat of trying to get the information out of them, failed in all attempts. She eventually dropped the issue, but Mable knew she was still bitter.

 Lysandre was currently sitting at a large polished mahogany table. It held other folders that were all stacked neatly to one corner, next to that was a black mug steaming with fresh coffee. At the other end was a fine crystal ashtray that was nearly full of cigarette butts. Lysandre had taken up smoking again and every time a group reported in from sweeping buildings they would make sure to hand over whatever packs they found.

At the back wall there was another table that held Lysandre's personal coffee maker. The coffee pot was still nearly full. Mable knew he could drink it all himself without getting the least bit jittery. She was pretty sure he only consumed the high amounts of caffeine to supplement for sleep and to keep off headaches. Headaches that were partly caused by consuming the vast volume of coffee, it was a vicious cycle.

He was stressed and that was a miserable understatement. There were so many tasks and projects that had to be completed still. The winter season was proving to be a burden and it was making progress as slow as a Goomy in an ice storm. Mable hoped that the little bit of good news she had would offset the setbacks they had been experiencing.

Lysandre turned in his chair to face a map that was tacked to the wall. He popped off the cap of a red pen that was attached to the wall by a string and made a large check mark over Lumiose City. He scanned the map and observed that there wasn't nearly enough checkmarks for his liking. Finally, he turned back to face his desk and continued to read Mable's report.

"So you are confident that Lumiose is now cleared?" He said while still eyeing the thick collection of papers.

"Yes Director, my team is now free to clear other areas. Another month and I'm sure the cleanup efforts will be to your standards."

Lysandre looked up and met her gaze while he tapped his finger on a page he had just finished reading, "What are these?"

Mable leaned over to glance at the pages in question, she shifted nervously before she spoke.

"Requests Director, I thought since I was already coming here to report I would take it upon myself to bring everyone's requests to you."

Lysandre grunted and turned back to the pages, "You can tell Aliana that she can get her engineers together to begin work on the power grid."

He paused while he flipped to the next one, once he saw that it was a request from Xerosic he crumpled it up and tossed it into the nearby trashcan.

Mable tensed slightly at that, she would have to tell her fellow scientist that he was out of luck. She didn't know what Lysandre and him talked about the last time they spoke, all she knew is that they hadn't directly spoken to each other since. Xerosic played it off like it wasn't a big deal, but she knew better.

"People are having disputes over housing?" Lysandre raised an eyebrow while he read over the details on the page and  then looked up at his scientist questioningly.

"Yes, apparently so."

"That is the single most idiotic thing I've read today." He shifted his gaze to the trashcan for a second, "That is the second most idiotic thing I've read today. There is plenty of room, this is ridiculous. Send some mediators to clear up the situation and if they can't, send any trouble makers to me and I'll deal with them myself!"

Lysandre had been slowing rising from his seat as he addressed the issue. He marked his final words by slamming both his palms on his desk with a great amount of force. He frowned when he noticed that some of his coffee spilled over.

Mable pulled out a handkerchief from her sleeve and instantly cleaned the spill and proceeded to top off the mug. She handed it to Lysandre who had descended back into his chair. He took it graciously and took a couple sips before returning the mug to the desk.

He padded at his jacket for a moment before he found a pack of cigarettes that he had stored there. He held the cigarette in his lips and returned the half empty pack to his inside pocket. Lysandre padded around again and began to open drawers in an attempt to find where he had stashed his lighter.

Mable reached into her own pocket and lit her lighter that she kept just for moments like this and brought the flickering flame to the tip of her boss's cigarette. 

After he took a couple drags he was satisfied and leaned back in his chair. Mable placed the lighter next to the ash tray for him to keep, she had others.

It wasn't that much of a surprise that there was fighting among the masses. He already had to send mediators to break up many petty disputes that ranged from slight disagreements to full scale domestic spats. Fighting over something so readily available had him at his wits end though. The whole point of his new society was to ensure that there would be plenty for all. Maybe the fact that they were still stuck in Lumiose City and that combined with the bad weather was beginning to take its toll. Once more check marks could be added to the map behind him, maybe it would be time to spread people out. He only hoped that would be enough to quell any future issues.   

Lysandre rested his eyes while he leaned back and puffed a couple of smoke rings. He had learned how to make them back in his university days when he smoked socially. He wasn't going to lie to himself and say that he was smoking socially now. He had already tried a couple times to offer a cigarette to his other scientists, other than Xerosic. They all politely declined.

No, he was definitely just dependent on them at this point. He was just thankful that he had never been much of a drinker. At least this vice he could enjoy and still think clearly enough to get work done.

He returned his attention to the rest of the requests and took out a notepad and pen and scrawled out a note. Mable pocketed it once he pressed it into her hand.

"Make sure Aliana gets that message before she begins her work."

"Of course, I'll get it done."

"You should consider working with her team on the grid, you two work well together."

Mable couldn't help but smile, "Yes, thank you Director."

"About the rest of the requests?" She inquired before she let herself out.

Lysandre took another long drag before he answered her, "I will keep you informed, I need some time to organize and prioritize projects. The power grid should be our main objective, we are using unnecessary amounts of electricity and that should be remedied." 

Mable gave him one last smile and excused herself, she made sure to shut the door behind her. It was a pet peeve Lysandre had and he wasn't afraid to raise his voice if it was kept open.

 Once she was out in the hall she sent out a message to Aliana to inform her that she had been approved and that they would meet up later to ready their team.  Once her holocaster received a reply she made her way to the elevator. Mable decided that she would head to Xerosic's lab before she returned to the surface. It had become a bit of a habit to give the man a visit after her meetings with Lysandre. She knew that he would be disappointed if she didn't stop by even if he tried to hide it. Besides, he would want to know about the status of his request, too bad she didn't have good news to bring him.

She hovered her finger over the call button, but the doors opened before she had the chance. Mable's face drained when she found herself face to face with the ex-elite four member Malva.

She slid past the scientist with hardly a notice while she swished her bubblegum pink hair. She was dressed very well, if not a bit on the trashy side in Mable's opinion. She had a Vulpix fur coat draped on her arm and her favorite sunglasses resting at the tip of her pointed nose.

"Oh, Blue!" She chirped as though she just realized the other woman existed.

Malva knew all the names of the scientists but always made a point to call them by hair color rather than by name. It was a fact that annoyed the blue-haired scientist to no end.

Mable's mouth thinned into a frown, but she simply silently acknowledged the other woman and stepped into the elevator. To her added annoyance, Malva kept her arm in the way so the doors were unable to close.

"Really now, were you visiting Lysandre again?" She gave Mable a scandalizing stare, "What will the papers say when they catch wind of this?"

She chuckled and finally allowed the doors to close. She didn't even mind that the blue-haired woman flipped her off right as the doors pressed shut. She felt accomplished that she had gotten a rise out of her.

Malva clicked her heels loudly across the floor all the way to Lysandre's office. She knocked, but didn't give enough time for an answer before she barged in. She grabbed a chair that was placed by the door and pulled it over to the desk before she threw her coat over it and sat down.

Lysandre raised his eyes in her direction while she did all this, but didn't appear visibly bothered by her presence. He snuffed out the remains of his cigarette before he spoke.

"What can I do for you today, Malva?"

Malva crossed her legs and placed her hands together on her lap while she smiled warmly at the redhead.

"Oh Lysandre, can't I just come and see how you are. I just wanted to say hi."

"Lying is unbecoming for someone of your station." He replied dryly, turning to another page of the thick report he was still studying.

Malva chuckled, "Don't give me that, we both know that lying is an absolute necessity for ones of our station. Besides..."

She sashayed over to the coffee maker and helped herself to her own cup before returning and sitting pretty in her seat.

"I recall doing a lot of lying because of you actually. Wow, you were a horrible influence on me. You should be ashamed."

She blew some of the rising steam from her cup before she took a long drink, her cup was then forgotten on the table next to Lysandre's. The edge of it was stained with her bright red lipstick.

Lysandre continued eyeing through the report while also trying to organize the growing pile of requests and projects that still needed his approval. He soon ceased this attempt, looked up from his papers, and exhaled a breath. Malva was tapping her foot against his desk and it was becoming distracting.

"I can find you something to do if that is what you need." He was completely serious. All the work was beginning to pile up and he was becoming a bit overwhelmed. He was nearly at the point that his pride wouldn't get in the way of him asking for help, even from someone like Malva.

Malva was currently admiring her nails and acted like she hadn't heard the other speak, "You know what I saw on my way here?"

"I'm sure you are about to tell me." He couldn't even mask his exasperated tone. 

"Children, Lysandre. The local academy had to have at least thirty of them attending classes. I  hadn't realized so many children made it onto your guest list. I thought this was an adult party."

Lysandre found himself sighing yet again as he ran his fingers through his hair that he had pulled back into a rough ponyta-tail. He hadn't been in the mood to style it for some time now. He settled for simply tying back loose strands that would otherwise fall into his face.

  He carefully gathered up the papers on his desk and filed them neatly to the side with his other folders. Once that was complete, he locked his fingers together and rested his scruff covered chin on them. Malva was going out of her way to be too distracting for him to continue his work and she wasn't going to offer any assistance. He was better off getting the conversation out of the way so he could get back to being productive.

"I mean, what are they teaching them in class? Certainly not pokémon biology that is for certain. What about history? Are they all staring at a picture of you with the words: _Our Glorious King_ printed underneath?"

Lysandre pinched the bridge of his nose and brandished his pack of cigarettes. They were left out on the table which made it easy for Malva to claim one for herself. Lysandre rolled his eyes at her as she leaned over the desk with it in her lips, expecting him to light it for her. He did, but only because he had just finished lighting his own.

"I know it is hard to imagine, but some of the members did indeed have families. So yes, there are children. I trust that whatever curriculum that has been planned out by their teachers is sufficient."

Malva nodded along while she listened to Lysandre give his response. She appeared satisfied since she moved on to another topic.

"I have been thinking about a lot of things lately. For one, how long do you think resources will honestly last if we are just scavenging?"

That was a valid question, thankfully it was something that Lysandre had also done a great deal of thinking on, "I don't like the idea of living like Mandibuzz, but I can assure you that I have plans to make this society self-sufficient." 

"I'm sure you have lots of plans, so are we expected to all eat like strict vegans then?"

"What on earth are you talking about now?"

Malva shrugged while she stroked the fur of her coat, "How can we eat cheese and drink milk without Miltank or Gogoat? What about Farfetch'd eggs? I'll have you know that I used to enjoy a good dry aged Tauros steak."

She began to tap her foot again while she continued with her point, "Once we use whatever we scavenge from storage and deep freezers, what then?"

"We'll adapt, that is what's great about being human."

Lysandre scratched at his beard from annoyance, his cigarette wasn't doing it for him anymore so he added it to the growing pile in the ashtray. Malva continued to take occasional puffs at her own. She became quiet and allowed herself to settle comfortably in her seat.

"Have you thought of everything Lysandre?" She finally added while she admired the molded details in the ceiling that surrounded a beautifully formed light fixture.

 "Have you really thought about how much this world of yours is going to change. Will everything else adapt as easily as you believe we will?"

Malva switched her gaze back to Lysandre and leaned in close. She wanted to see all the subtle ways he would respond to her concerns and criticism, "Do you really think any of the children can really understand what you have done? Don't you think they lost classmates? How can it be explained that they were special but their neighbors were not."

She finished off her cigarette and stuffed it with the rest in the tray, "These are things that adults like us can barely deal with, how do you expect children to?"

You could say that the silence that followed was awkward. Though, Malva would disagree. She enjoyed the fact that she left Lysandre speechless for the moment, she gave him something he had to think about. Little did she know that it wasn't her words that left him speechless, they were only an indirect cause.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lysandre's mind wandered to the faces of the five children that opposed him in Geosenge. A wave of what-if situations bombarded him. What if Yveltal had escaped its holding chamber? Would that have given Serena the edge to best him in battle? How would things have changed if she had proven victorious? It was a close match between the two of them, but in the end he had more experience in the art of battle.

_"Why did they refuse my offer?"_

He asked them each again if they wanted a place in his society after Serena failed. They knew what it meant if they refused again, he made sure to explain it. Even with that knowledge, they all declined his final offer and his hands were tied. They were children that chose to play an adult game and they made an adult decision. Lysandre was honor bound to respect their final answer and he did.

 It disturbed him that even with the promise of death they chose that over living in a new beautiful world. He found himself wondering if they really understood after all. The nature of the children's fate had been far more personal than the fate of the rest. The guilt that nipped at him from his personal responsibility for their demise was only slightly relieved by giving them a proper burial. They deserved better than being  nameless faces in a mass grave.

_"They were Augustine's pupils."_

He thought of the Professor who was being kept in a private section of the lab. It was a locked room that only he and Doctor Duval had access to. He had been in his coma for a month now and there still wasn't any signs of him becoming more aware. Unless the Professor flat lined Lysandre would continue to hold out hope that he would someday be able to speak with him. The Professor had to be kept on multiple supportive devices, his oxygen levels had been dangerously low just as Duval predicted. It was shocking to see the Professor on so many monitors, but without any aid he would not survive on his own.

 Every flutter of an eyelid made Lysandre's heart leap when he sat by his bed. He remembered feeling Augustine's fingers twitch when he slid his hand around his. He couldn't help but press careful kisses on his forehead and whisper words of love in his ear in hopes that they would reach him.

 _"_ _Tu me manques mon amour...."_

As much as he hoped that it wouldn't be long before there were improvements in his condition. He was also terrified about having to face him. He had time to work on the words to say, but he knew it would be different when Augustine could respond back.

Just like his pupils had signed their own death certificate willingly, would he want the same? Would he want to live by his side in this new world or would he harbor resentment? It was hard to imagine someone like Augustine Sycamore showing any hatred, he was always a glowing beacon of life and cheerfulness. Lysandre was truly worried that even if he lived, that side of him would be lost forever. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to stand that. Even if the Professor was ever able to forgive him, he knew he would never forgive himself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 A knock on his office door brought Lysandre out of his thoughts. A young man with the usual Team Flare dyed hair came in with a covered tray of food. When he noticed Malva, he became slightly flustered as he placed the tray at Lysandre's desk.

"I'm sorry!" He stammered, "I didn't realize you had a guest. Would you like me to bring you a tray Miss Malva?"

She brushed her hand on the boy's arm which made him tense up, "Oh no dear, I don't have an appetite. You may go." She made a gesture with her hand towards the door.

The young grunt looked over at Lysandre who gave him a confirming nod. He swiftly exited the room and shut the door behind him.

Malva watched him very intently as he left, she clicked her tongue and turned back to Lysandre, "That boy's roots were showing horribly."

"I can't say I noticed." Lysandre answered as he pulled the cover off his tray.

The meal wasn't five star quality, but it smelled good enough. Lysandre's stomach grumbled aggressively. Having only coffee and cigarettes for breakfast had caught up with him.

The plate consisted of cooked vegetables that were probably once frozen, warm bread, and some form of poultry covered with a berry glaze.

Malva's face looked like it could split in two from her huge grin that formed when she looked at the meal.

"Well enjoy certain delicacies while you can. I wonder what freezer they dug that out from?" She joked.

Lysandre ignored her while he cut into his lunch, once he was done slicing the breast into bite size pieces he gave Malva an impatient look.

"If there is nothing else, I would like to eat in peace."

She rose from her seat and covered her bare arms with her coat. She gave him a very thorough once-over before she moved around the desk and placed one of her hands on his broad shoulder.

"You know, I bet if you showed yourself to your followers more often they wouldn't be so restless."

Lysandre assumed she was referring to the issue of housing that Mable had brought to his attention earlier. He was about to ask when he felt her hand move. He couldn't help but twitch at her touch when her slender fingers ran through the length of his pulled back hair.

"We are both vain people Lysandre..."

Her lips were practically touching his exposed ear while she continued to whisper, "You were never one to let your appearance go. I have been trying to be respectful of the fact that you haven't wanted to share with me what has been troubling you."

She brought her other hand to his face so she could turn him to face her, "I don't think it's all the projects that are bothering you. I really think there is something else. Something that has caused you to not care about your appearance."

Lysandre was grateful when she finally stepped back from him, but she continued to speak.

"I won't press you further, but you should think about how your appearance affects those below you. Some look up to you like you are a King or a God. You shouldn't disappoint them dear."

She waited for Lysandre to give her some form of response, but only got a slight sound of understanding and a nod. That would have to be good enough for now. Besides, she had other people she planned to visit. She stood by the exit and let her hand rest weakly on the doorknob. She spoke again with a surprising amount of pain that instantly grabbed Lysandre's attention.

"I would like to think we are close enough that you could share anything with me Lysandre. Was I mistaken?"

Malva actually appeared hurt when he caught the expression on her face. It was hard to tell how genuine the hurt truly was, she was always good at manipulating people. It was a trait that had served its purpose while Team Flare's plans were still young. After taking some time to scrutinize the authenticity of her pain, Lysandre gave his curt response. 

 "I have a lot on my mind, coming in here to add to it does not help. Show that you can be helpful and I may share more with you."

It was now Malva's turn to be speechless. After a short moment of her trying to come up with a proper response to what he had just said. She simply adjusted her sunglasses, gripped her coat tightly, and walked out of the room.

Lysandre turned back to his plate unfazed and proceeded to stab a piece of the meat on his fork. Even with the sweet glaze, something about how the meat settled in his stomach felt like he was consuming gravel. After a couple more bites he covered the tray and grabbed another cigarette instead. He just didn't have an appetite anymore.     

  

* * *

 

Xerosic was busying himself by tinkering with a strange device on his workbench. Much like Lysandre rarely left his section of the lab, Xerosic practically lived in his. Actually, it was more accurate to say he did live in his lab. Against the one clear wall that wasn't overflowing with discarded blueprints and boxes full of random technological scrap, was a cot. When he wasn't pulling another all-nighter, it gave him a convenient spot to rest his head.

 Other than the fact he had to bring in the cot, his lab was equipped with other necessary creature comforts. If he wanted to shower there was one installed near his central station. It was meant for situations in case corrosive chemicals got spilled and someone had to rinse them off their body. There was a fridge equipped with a freezer that was once used to store specimens. He now had it stocked with things that he liked to treat himself with: a case of his favorite brand of beer and some ice cream sandwiches. For things his lab wasn't equipped for, there was an employee restroom just down the hall and he could take the elevator to the staff lounge to make use of the kitchen.

He only bothered to use the staff kitchen if cooking noodles in a beaker over a Bunsen burner wasn't an option or if he couldn't get someone to bring him a meal tray. Xerosic was having a decent afternoon as it were, someone actually came to take his order for lunch. He still had it covered to keep it hot while he continued to tinker. He only pulled himself away from his project when he noticed he had a guest.

"You know Mable, you are becoming predictable. I could argue that I have been incorporated into your routine."

Xerosic joked, but he was happy that Mable bothered to make time for him. Truth be told he would have been shocked if she hadn't come into his lab. Her visits were something that he secretly treasured and liked adding to his, otherwise, rather lonely existence.  

He removed a new pair of goggles that had magnified his eyes in a humorous fashion. He set them by the device he was working on. This made Mable take note of it, she recognized what it was instantly. It was a metal device that Lysandre wore on his back when the weapon was fired on the world. The insect-like ends were now motionless and parts of the device were now detached from Xerosic's experimenting. 

"Lysandre does not know you have that does he?" Her voice wasn't scolding, it held a legitimate amount of concern.

"You tell me? We don't talk remember?"

Xerosic realized he was taking on a sarcastic tone so in an attempt to retract his attitude he dug out a folded chair and gestured for Mable to sit. She appeared to have ignored his tone since she accepted the offered seat.

 His attitude had caused a lot of his bridges to be burned, the most obvious being Lysandre. Bryony had written him off during the lab incident and by association Celosia had followed suit. Aliana spoke to him if she had to, but didn't go out of her way to make contact. Mable was the only one that he could say was friendly with him. For whatever reason, he knew it would bother him if she wrote him off too. This caused awkward moments of him actually trying to speak to her about things that weren't work related.

From these interactions he learned that she had known Aliana since they were children and she was the reason why she pursued scientific ventures. She shared hobbies she had before Team Flare like hiking and camping. Xerosic had to admit that he didn't expect her to have been an outdoorsy type. She told him embarrassing things like the fact that she was allergic to shellfish and even touching a Clauncher would make her break out in hives. He resisted the urge to state how that wasn't something she had to worry about anymore.

Eventually, the conversations shifted to more personal subjects. She admitted that she was concerned for the future and that the day the weapon fired she worried that they would die too. She told Xerosic that some nights she couldn't sleep. He admitted the same to her, but failed to offer a true reason. Sometimes she would dream, she told him, and she could swear that her pokémon were curled up in bed with her.

Her Houndoom, which she got as a pup from a strange pair of breeders from Hoenn, had a whistling nose that used to keep her up at night. Her Weavile enjoyed burrowing its claws under her pillow when she slept, presumably to enjoy the coolness.    

 Of course when she would wake neither would actually be there, no matter how much she would swear she felt her Weavile's claws or heard the whistling from Houndoom's nose. She admitted to him that on nights she felt weak, it would bring her to tears. Xerosic wanted to tell her sometimes he felt the same, but he just didn't feel like he could admit such things.

Xerosic managed to dig out a second chair for himself, but not without causing a tower of boxes to collapse. He shoved them aside and placed his chair just around the corner of his work station from where Mable was sitting. He pulled over the tray of food and pulled off the cover to reveal that it held two portions.

Mable raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you asking me to eat lunch with you?"

Xerosic looked at the tray and shrugged, "Don't be silly, this is how much I usually eat."

He acted like he was going to pull the tray out of her reach but stopped short, "It would be rude for me to eat in front of you, I suppose I can share."

Mable suppressed a laugh and grabbed the extra fork that was supplied with the tray. She ate a couple spears of broccoli before her face became serious.

"I hope you plan on explaining that..." She pointed at the device with her fork.

Xerosic shoveled a large piece of glazed meat into his mouth and spoke while he chewed, "Oh I'll miss it when we can't eat like this. Children in Hoenn would have wept if they knew what we were eating."

He received a glare from his dining partner, "Oh right sorry, not an appropriate joke."

He dabbed his face with his napkin and finally chose to address the topic, "Lysandre left that behind in Geosenge. I collected it."

Mable continued to pick at her side of the plate, her gaze urged Xerosic to continue.

"If Lysandre would even bother to read my requests." He paused and took on a slightly irritable look when Mable shook her head. It wasn't like he was surprised that Lysandre threw out his request. It was just causing him annoyance.

"Well," He cleared his throat and walked over to the device, "If he isn't going to pay attention, then I won't ask for permission."

The way his voice had suddenly taken on a dark tone didn't sit well with Mable. She placed her utensil on the plate and joined Xerosic by the other end of his work area. It was at that moment she noticed a suitcase that looked like it had been packed for a trip.

"Xerosic?" Her voice was barely a breath, "Are you going somewhere?"

Xerosic had his eyes low, he didn't look up when she said his name. He was fidgeting, anxious, it wasn't something she was used to seeing in him. A glimmer of red and white caught her eye. On his belt was the pokeball of his final pokémon, Crobat. Mable was visibly shaken by this. Xerosic noticed, but remained silent.    

"What are you planning?" She finally choked out, at this point she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

A firm hand reached out and rested on one of the tendrils of the machine. With his other, he unclipped the pokeball and placed it on the table.

"Tell me that Crobat is dead."

Mable blinked, "What?"

Xerosic met her eyes now while he spoke, "Please just humor me, tell me Crobat is dead."

"Crobat... is dead. What is this all abou.."

Xerosic quickly interrupted, "How do you know?"

Whatever point Xerosic was trying to make was lost on Mable. She studied his face, she half expected to see his final strand of sanity snap right in front of her. His face looked surprisingly calm, despite the turn the conversation had taken. After she thought about his question she finally thought of an answer to try to appease him with.

"The weapon killed them all. Even the ones in their pokeballs. If you recall, you proved that by releasing the body of your Malamar."

"That's right." He began while he circled the table to get closer to Mable. He held his Crobat's capsule in his hand while he continued, "The machine killed them while they were on our belts yet somehow spared our lives." His voice cracked into a cackle, "We dressed ourselves in uniforms we thought would keep us safe. The others were herded like Mareep into shelters before Lysandre sent out his final message. We programmed the beam to miss key targets to keep only the desirable ones alive. It wasn't perfect though was it?"

Carefully Mable formed her words, "The uniforms kept us safe, the others were kept alive when the beam didn't target their location, what is this all about?"

Xerosic was so close to her now, she could see that he was struggling with this own thoughts. His body language was uncomfortable and stiff. The pokeball was passed awkwardly between his hands. It only stopped when Mable grabbed both of his hands and held them, she could feel the unnaturally cold capsule against her palms.

"Just explain it to me."

Xerosic's grip tightened, "A pokeball keeps them in a sort of stasis."

 He swallowed hard and continued to speak, "I believe it is possible that they could be in a state of both alive and dead. I know once I open the ball my Crobat will undoubtedly be deceased. What is its condition in the ball? The pokeball has not malfunctioned, it hasn't rejected what is held inside. My Crobat is dead, but its body doesn't know it yet."

He pulled away from Mable and placed the ball back on the table. After a moment of him watching it roll and come to rest against some scrap he made his point known.

"I imagine it is similar to the Professor's condition. Without his life support his body will die. Without the pokeball my Crobat will die. Unlike my Crobat though, the Professor may still be spared."

Mable exhaled a breath she just realized she had been holding, "By Arceus Xerosic..."

She closed the gap between them and threw her arms around him tightly, "I was so scared that you were trying to do something mad."

Xerosic didn't resist her touch, he felt a warm comfort form in his chest. He didn't want to ruin the moment by telling her that it was still possible that he would do something considered mad. He had to reason that anything that he did wouldn't be as mad as any member of Lysandre's family. No, compared to AZ and the Director, he was the sanest man in the room.  

Mable didn't even care that their faces were practically touching, "You think you can save the Professor?"   

"I won't know until I run some tests in Geosenge." He whispered back, "But, I have a theory."

Xerosic wanted to mentally kick himself for the fact that his heart was deciding to flutter like someone with a classroom crush. It was hard to focus on what he wanted to explain when the current moment felt so nice. That was the best way he could think to describe it, it was nice and he didn't want it to end quite yet. Of course it had to end at some point and in the worst way possible.

"My, what have I walked in on?"

Malva leaned casually against the doorframe. She had a smug grin painted on her face while she shook her head disapprovingly at the pair of scientists.

"Tsk tsk, Blue. First Lysandre and now Xerosic?"

Mable's face flushed from embarrassment and outrage. She released her hold on Xerosic, his face had also flushed a light crimson. He looked mildly upset that Mable had released her hold, but it quickly passed.

Malva continued into the lab. Her eyes wandered to the device on the table and then to the shared plate of food.

"I can't say I'm surprised that this is what constitutes as a date to people like you. However..."

She stopped in front of Lysandre's machine and ran one of her fingers across the smooth back piece. Her eyes shifted to the two scientists that watched her every move cautiously.

"It appears I've stumbled across a much bigger scoop than your embarrassing love life."

"Get out!" Xerosic growled, "My research is none of your business!"

"Fine, but what is this about the Professor? You couldn't possibly be referring to Professor Sycamore, could you? What is this about saving him?"

Mable forced herself  between Malva and the work station, "This doesn't concern you!"

Malva's hands went up in mock surrender, "Fine, fine, you've made your point." She turned to Xerosic and flashed him a mischievous grin, "I'll just go tell Lysandre about all of this..." She gestured to the entire collection on the table.

"Wait!" He sputtered. He hated the tone he took, but he couldn't risk Lysandre being told about what he was doing, "What do you want?"

"Xerosic!" Mable pleaded, "Don't give in to her threats! I'll talk to Lysandre, he'll understand."

Sharp laughter cut across the room, "Oh you are too precious! Dear, you don't actually know Lysandre like me and Xerosic do. Tell her Xerosic..."

The blue-haired scientist passed a glance between the two others in the room, "Xerosic please, this is crazy. Lysandre will understand, we can go to him now."

"Leave Mable, I need to talk to Malva alone."

Mable stood stunned, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Xerosic spoke again, "I will speak with you later, leave my lab."

It had been a long time since she heard Xerosic speak with such shortness and authority. He was still the top scientist and therefore, outranked her.

"Yes sir." The words were robotic and automatic. Swiftly, she turned and marched out of the room without looking back his way.

Xerosic could practically see the smoke rising from his last bridge being burned. He just had to hope that there would something left to salvage later.

"What do you want from me Malva?" He drawled out.

Xerosic could ignore his weariness when it was just him and Mable. Her company had been giving him a drive he hadn't realized until she walked out of his lab. Now with only Malva's heavy predatory eyes on him, he was exhausted.

"I want to know everything Xerosic... I'm tired of being left out of the loop."

Malva occupied the space that Mable held earlier. Her painted nails grazed his face and rested on his slumped back. He could feel her breathe against the nape of his neck. It didn't mean anything to him. Even when he felt her sticky lips press into his, he felt nothing. All he could think about was the lunch tray that had been left abandoned at his table. He wished that it was still Mable's arms around him. He wondered what her kiss could have been like. Surely, her kiss wouldn't feel like poison. Her touches were lovely and sweet, not hard and manipulative. He continued to stand motionless while Malva pulled at the front of his lab coat.

"I'm your only ally now, Xerosic..."

He thought about the expression on Mable's face before she stormed out. Sadly, Malva was probably right.

 

* * *

 

The night was cold and restless. A storm front blew in and filled the city streets with bellowing snow and frigid wind. Any that were caught out in the storm rushed into nearby buildings to escape it. Aliana watched the storm with interest. Her holocaster lit up with messages from fellow engineers, keeping her informed of the condition of the power lines. She had a long sleepless night ahead of her, if any damage came to the lines she had to be ready with her team to make necessary repairs. One message caught her eye and she looked away from the window to answer it. It was from Mable.

Mable was shut away in her apartment she kept near Lysandre's Cafe. The lights were off, only the dim light from her holocaster receiving a reply illuminated her form. It was text only communication, but Mable was used to that between her and Aliana.

_"I wish I could stop by, but with the storm I have to be on standby. -A"_

_"I know, I just miss you. I'm upset. -M"_

_"Xerosic? -A"_

Mable shifted under her heavy comforter before she replied. The light from the message framed her reddened eyes. Text only messaging was good for one thing, it gave Mable the ability to appear better off than she was.

_"Yes. Not just him though, Malva. -M"_

It took a couple minutes for a reply to come through.

_"I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it now? Or do you want to wait until we see each other?  -A"_

By talk, Aliana meant to continue by text.

_"I can't get into detail this way, but Malva knows you know what. -M"_

_"That is troublesome, What did Xerosic do? -A"_

Mable ran her fingers through her loose hair and curled up on her side. The holocaster continued to cast its light from her pillow. Her fingers worked to type out a message, but soon stopped and erased what she had. How could she explain it? After some time, she finally send out her reply.

_"I'll talk to you about it when we meet up for the job tomorrow. I'm about to fall asleep. -M"_

Aliana probably wasn't fooled. Her holocaster lit up again with another message. It was probably a message calling her out on the fact she said she was going to sleep. It wasn't.

_"Mable, I've settled into my location in Geosenge. Malva will not share what she knows with Lysandre. I tried to come to your apartment, but you were not home..."_

She was home, she just didn't answer the door. In his defense, if he had tried for even a minute longer she would have opened the door for him.

_"I will continue with my research from here. I know Lysandre won't ask, but in the very rare instance he does. I ask that you act oblivious. Goodbye. -X"_

Mable threw her device to the end of her bed. It bounced off the mattress and disappeared somewhere on the floor. She didn't care. The way Xerosic's message ended abruptly made her want to scream. A wide range of emotions twisted her stomach into knots. She was angry sure, but there was something else. Something that felt like heartbreak. She rolled back up and threw the pillow over her head. Xerosic could fuck off in her opinion, the month she wasted feeling like he needed company was for nothing. Her eyes burned from fighting back tears. She didn't let any fall, not for him.

**(Before Xerosic sent his message.)**

  _"I will continue with my research from here. I know Lysandre won't ask, but in the very rare instance he does. I ask that you act oblivious. I hope you will come to see me here. I have realized something that I want to tell you, I don't want to do it like this. Please, I'm so sorry that I had to turn you away. Lysandre would not understand, he does not want my help..."_

Xerosic stared at the message for a long time. He shook his head and hit backspace. After he revised the message he finally hit send. His lip was sore from him biting it. He had to hold out hope that she would come to him, maybe he would be able to explain. He laid back on the dusty bed that he claimed in the tiny cabin. Even with the snow making it hard to see, he could still see the massive petals of the weapon from his window. After staring for a bit, he finally got up and closed the curtain and retreated back to his bed. Tomorrow he would begin his experiments.

 

* * *

 

Back in Lysandre's lab, the office was empty. The neat stacks of reports were still present on the large desk. The coffee maker had been cleaned out and the empty cups were stacked and ready for use another day. In the private chambers that branched off the office, the bed was perfectly made and pressed. There wasn't any signs that anyone disturbed the bedding in some time. Only the on suite bathroom had any evidence of someone having been there. A toothbrush was still damp from being used and a wash cloth was tossed to the edge of the sink. Other than these small signs, nothing else was touched.

Lysandre found that he couldn't sleep in his room. Even with the finest bedding and furnishings, sleep would not come to the man. After a week of tossing and turning and struggling with sleep deprivation. He began to take naps in the space he and the Doctor set up for the Professor. There wasn't enough room for him to set up another proper bed, but the recliner he brought in was comfortable enough.

At first the constant beeping and sounds from the monitors bothered him. After some time he conditioned himself to associate the irritating sounds with the Professor's positive condition. He would have preferred that his condition improve further, but at least he had the comfort that he was alive.

So the beeps became a lullaby to him. Even though the chair caused his back to ache when he woke, he actually slept.

Lysandre had the chair currently reclined and pressed up to the side of the bed that was centered in the room. He rested his arm next to the Professor's and held his hand while he spoke to him.

This had become a routine, him laying next to Augustine in his chair, listening to the beeps, talking to him before he fell asleep. Doctor Duval reassured him that it was healthy for him to do it. Even if he had been told it wasn't, he would have continued to do it all the same.

Augustine used to talk his ear off, not that he ever minded. The man had a pleasing, easy tone to his voice and it was hard not to listen to him go on about his research. Hell, he could talk about anything and he was sure to gain an audience. He was charming and well loved by the people. Even with his constant praise he took it with a great amount of modesty and never let it go to his head. That was something Lysandre always respected about him.

He pulled the troublesome curl that always fell across the Professor's face and tucked it behind his ear. Even with the man in this condition, he was transfixed on his face. He always found the Professor to be truly beautiful. It made him physically ache if he dwelled on the possibility that he may never be able to say that to him again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

"You are a beautiful man, Professor."

The Professor had just been giving a coffee-fueled sermon about all the different theories he had about how to trigger Mega Evolution. It was the way that he gestured about excitedly, his eyes gleaming, and his hair moving about in its wild way that sparked the comment. Lysandre had intended the statement to be much quieter, if not completely in his head. It wasn't until the Professor stopped what he was discussing and focused his eyes completely on his that he realized two things. One, the comment had not been in his head. Two, that it was said loud enough for the other to hear.

"Monsieur Lysandre?"

Once Augustine spoke Lysandre realized a third thing. The man looked even more amazing with a dusting of blush on his face.

"What? Is it not true?"

Lysandre had no desire to try to pretend that he didn't say what he said. Even though the statement was true for his physical appearance, he also thought the statement was appropriate for him as a person. So without any hesitation he explained as though it was the most obvious thing.

"You show people the wonders of building a true partnership with their pokémon. You draw people in with your warmth and make them feel welcome. You plan on opening up a starter program so you can help children grow with pokémon by their side. All of these things are beautiful."

Augustine let out a cheerful laugh, "Oh goodness you are too kind, I'm so embarrassed!"

Lysandre raised an eyebrow, "It was not my intent to embarrass you..."

"Oh I know!" His voice was still full of his usual charm, "I guess I thought that you were referring to something else being beautiful."

The Professor had traveled around his desk and placed a hand on his friend's elbow. Placing it on Lysandre's shoulder would have been a bit awkward even though Augustine fancied himself quite tall. Of course not nearly as tall as the redhead that occupied his office.

 (Thank goodness for tall ceilings, non?)

"I was referring to you physically as well."

Augustine blinked and looked up at Lysandre with another dusting of blush and a confused look to pair with it.

"Pardon?"

Lysandre let out a sigh. There was nobody around them, they were in a private space with no onlookers to judge them. There was no reason to dance around the fact that both men had been subtlety flirting for some time now. Augustine was the worst offender, whereas Lysandre preferred to be a bit more reserved. At that moment, Lysandre was feeling a bit more daring so he rolled with it.  

"Augustine, have dinner with me tonight?"

 He leaned down to the Professor's level and instead of a ghost of a kiss on the cheek that they had shared since it was the typical Kalosian greeting, he pressed one more firmly while one of his hands cupped the side of his face. While he remained close and intimate he whispered.

"Will that be agreeable to you?

  It appeared that the kiss on the cheek had stolen Augustine's voice. He nodded fiercely before planting a shy kiss above the other man's jaw. A small chuckle left Lysandre, he couldn't have asked for things to have turned out more perfectly.

"I will collect you later for our rendezvous."

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"My followers are becoming restless." Lysandre spoke, he leaned his head to the side and looked at Augustine like he would if he could look into his eyes.

"I fear that it is my fault. I haven't shown myself to my people and in my state I think it would cause distress."

He scratched at his beard that desperately needed a trim, his hair was also in need of a cut. Pulling it back was not the answer. A sigh escaped his lips as he gazed at the Professor's form.

"I should take care of myself."

Of course there wasn't an answer, so Lysandre supplied his own.

"You are right of course Augustine, I should practice what I preach. I have always told you that you should mind your health and here I am being just as bad."

His hand squeezed the other. He was comforted by the slight warmth that the Professor's hand gave off. It was late and he had so much work that he still had to complete. Any chance of being able to function rode on him actually falling asleep.

"I'll clean myself up tomorrow, for you. I should not allow any doubt to fester, I have a responsibility and Team Flare needs a leader." Lysandre yawned out the last part of his sentence.

He squeezed Augustine's hand again affectionately and stood up from the recliner. His fingertips could easily brush against the ceiling while he stretched out his arms. There was a satisfying popping sound that came from his stiff back. The tiredness was really hitting him now, another yawn crept out while he shuffled around to the other side of the Professor's bed.

"I'll join you in a moment mon amour." He murmured.    

Before he could fall asleep he wanted to make sure everything was set for the night regarding the Professor's care. During the day he trusted Doctor Duval to handle it, he had to or he would go mad. Ever since he learned that he could only sleep in the room with Augustine, nighttime care became his responsibility. Doctor Duval always left detailed notes just in case they were not able to meet up.

Lysandre was currently scanning through them while he retrieved a couple of pillows from a small linen closet. After he read everything he needed to, he flipped to the next page and grimaced when he read a quickly written note that must have been an afterthought. It was simply attached via sticky note.

"You have terrible handwriting Doctor..."  

It was a quick note about how the Doctor wanted to increase how much range of motion the Professor was currently receiving. This made Lysandre take note of how thin Augustine was becoming. He was always thin, but his muscles were beginning to deteriorate.

"Probably not a bad idea." He thought solemnly.

Lysandre continued with his check. Augustine's breathing tube was clear, his head was at a incline to prevent him from aspirating , the feeding tube wasn't snagged, catheter was in place and the bag was attached securely under the bed, his IV for fluids would be good until Duval arrived in the morning. The Doctor had made a note that he had bathed him that day. Lysandre carefully rolled him slightly and placed one of the pillows against his back. The other got placed between his knees so they wouldn't rub.

At first Lysandre admitted to himself that the care involved made him uncomfortable. Certain things he would purposely leave for the Doctor to do. Part of it was the fact that he was uneasy about it, another part is that some of what had to be done felt like a violation. Eventually, he let go his hang-ups and took a more active role.

It wasn't romantic or beautiful, the care that took place just had to be done. Once he was finished he returned to his chair and laced his fingers back with Augustine's. Even though it was painful to see someone so dependent on others for daily function. It wasn't making him feel any less of the man still by his side. The more he took part in Augustine's care the more he knew how hopelessly in love he really was with the man. If he had to take care of him the rest of his life, he knew he would. Lysandre ran his finger over a small remote that was attached to the bed. The lights dimmed out and the only remaining lights came from the readouts of the monitors.

_beep_

_beep_

_beep_

"Good night, Augustine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tough write, mainly because I just couldn't shake off an illness. I also knew that there was a lot I wanted to cover in this chapter. I almost want to go back and push some of my old chapters together that really could be one chapter. I won't though, but this is more the length that I'll be aiming for with my chapters. 
> 
> Hey I listened to stuff while I wrote as always ^_^ :
> 
> I Know Where You Sleep - Emilie Autumn  
> Silhouettes - Of Monsters and Men  
> Million Dollar Man Lyrics - Lana Del Rey (I'll be listening to this one much more often from now on....)


	7. Chasing Spring: Part 1

There was the sound of a whistle, immediately followed by another and marked with an explosion for each. Flashes and sparks hissed across the sky, all giving off their own array of colors. Before the sounds repeated themselves, crowds of people all flooding the base of the illuminated Prism Tower cheered out. The cheering became more vociferous and lively as even more explosions decorated the sky. The fireworks faded as quickly as they bloomed and only left wispy smoke as evidence of their presence.

Lysandre was standing at the top of the tower at the viewing platform. He was dressed warmly in a thick fitted wool coat and a cashmere scarf wrapped snuggly all the way up to the bottom of his chin. His gloved hands were currently tangled in a mess of black curls.

He had been surprised by the Professor's swiftness. Before the first firework could even grace the sky, Lysandre was pulled down to the other man's level with a surprising amount of gusto. The chilly nip in the air was even more apparent at the top of the tower, but was forgotten while Lysandre's lips locked with the Professor's.

Lysandre immediately deepened the kiss while the sky continued to light up above them. With each passing firework he pulled him closer and closer. Comforting warmth from the two bodies engaged in the passionate display was growing. Lysandre desperately didn't want it to end.

A panic that he couldn't place was beginning to grip him. This was followed by fevered thoughts that invaded his mind. 

_"I can't let this end, I want more. Oh please this is so sweet, so lovely. Please don't leave."_

Augustine's hands were burrowing into the front of his jacket. A shiver ran through the taller man from the Professor's slender hands seeking out his warmth.

_"So cold."_

 Lysandre untangled his fingers from Augustine's locks and brushed them against the prickly scruff on his jaw and finally let them rest at his smooth chin. The Professor's lips parted slightly, inviting Lysandre to deepen the kiss further.

Chocolate, spice, coffee, all these things he could taste while he allowed his tongue to explore. It wasn't a power struggle that was taking place. Their tongues were not in a duel or a fencing match. No, they came together like a dance that only parted when they had to surface for air.

Augustine remained pressed against his body with his hands deep underneath his coat. His ears were reddened from the cold and his nose shared the same shade. His lips parted again to form an infectious smile that lit up his face.  

"I had to make sure we were kissing at the stoke of midnight."

His voice, that smile, the way they stood so close. Lysandre couldn't help but share in the Professor's joy and return his expression. The happiness refused to linger on him for too long however, it was slipping through his fingers like soft sand. Something continued to nag at the back of his skull even as the touches continued. Even when their faces were close again and Augustine's breathing brushed against Lysandre's numb ear, something felt wrong.

"You did it..." Augustine's hands were removed from the coat and were now caressing Lysandre's face sensually.

Lysandre wanted to respond, he wanted to ask him what he meant. What did he do? His eyes were guided out to the crowds of people that surrounded the tower by the Professor's touch.

"Look, they can all see you now..."

That color. Burning fire was all he could see. Thousands stood rigid, all adorned with orange suits. No longer were they celebrating, no longer was the sky bursting with sparks.

"Keep looking..." He heard Augustine urge.

Past the many faces of his own he saw them. They appeared like silhouettes, shadows of what they once were, from each alley that connected into the Centrico Plaza. The fallen, the un-chosen. Men, women, children, they appeared first and were soon followed by more. Pokémon of all shapes and forms were next, they too stared unblinking at the top of the tower. Familiar faces came into view, Serena materialized with the rest of the children. Calem, Trevor, Shauna, and Tierno all watched the tower like the rest of the shadows. Serena was the only one whose gaze refused to meet that of her murderer's.

 Lysandre's eyes widened, his throat grew tight, he tried to speak but no words formed from his lips. He turned to the Professor who also looked out at the new faces. Cold soft fingers were still soothingly stroking his face. Augustine turned his grey eyes away from the still growing crowd of shadows.

"They all see your accomplishments, mon Roi."

The Professor held his hands steady, he leaned up and brushed the slightest of kisses on Lysandre's now quivering lips.

"Happy New Year, Lysandre."

"New Year?" He managed to say after Augustine's lips left his.

All color was gone from his skin, he wasn't even able to feel when Augustine kissed him again. Even if he had, there wasn't any way he would have enjoyed it. Not now.

A soft chuckle came from the Professor. His arms outstretched as though he was presenting everything like an excited game show host.

"Lysandre!" He announced, his voice oozed with enthusiasm, "This is year one! You birthed your new world on this day one year ago! Look!"

Again Lysandre was guided to look back at the crowds of followers. The chosen in orange were all replaced by the shadows. Cold gazes continued to pierce the top of the tower, Lysandre could feel himself growing colder. Like long blackened tendrils, the shadows continued to grow and were soon climbing up to his level, threatening to spill over.

"They all see you!" Augustine's cheerful voice rang out.

"Stop... stop this!"

No amount of yelling stopped the tidal wave from crashing into the Team Flare leader. The deathly chill cut deep into his bones. He opened his mouth to cry out, but was silenced by what felt like briny water filling his throat. He coughed and spat, but nothing could stop the whirlpool from swallowing him up. All he could do was reach out weakly to Augustine's still visible form.  

"Help me!"

The Professor didn't move and to Lysandre's horror his body soon became nothing more than a shadow. He too was swept up by the wave and joined the rest of the fallen.  

_(Beep beep beep.)_

 

* * *

 

The poor Doctor clutched his chest as Lysandre abruptly hollered out and leapt from his chair. This action was immediately regretted when the severe ache from being contorted at an odd angle most of the night made itself known. There was an anguished, and not too proud sounding, moan that escaped the very frazzled looking redhead. His large hands found his back and proceeded to rub the many stiff locations.

"My neck.." He mumbled as he moved to try to soothe that region as well.

"Tough night?"

Lysandre turned swiftly to Doctor Duval, who he had just realized he was occupying the room. He grumbled in response and watched as Duval finished placing a fresh IV bag on its hook next to the Professor's bed.

"Is that what made that horrible noise?" Lysandre was still grumbling, he couldn't hide that he felt like a Trubbish.

Duval nodded apologetically, "Indeed, sorry I wasn't quite fast enough this morning to beat the alarm."

"What time is it?" Lysandre lamented, he was still rubbing his sore neck.

Immediately Duval pulled up his sleeve and inspected his watch, "0700."

Lysandre grunted, "Seven am? So I didn't get a lot of sleep."

He ran his fingers through his hair out of irritation and then grimaced. His hair was a mess and needed a proper comb through. Though, he would still be pulling it back which wasn't the type of look he needed to continue. Besides, he did make a promise.

On that note he turned to the Professor who still looked the same as when he had fallen asleep. Although now he noticed that the man had some rough stubble that covered his face. Augustine always kept his face a bit rougher and less polished than Lysandre personally would. Now he had no room to talk. His beard was a complete mess and he was now even keeping a mustache that irritated his upper lip.

"Are you going to give him a shave today?"

Lysandre had to hold back from wanting to lash out when the Doctor gave him a bemused look. It was obvious that Duval was staring at his own mess of unkempt facial hair. The irony of his question was not lost on him.

"If that is what you wish." Duval finally answered.

"It's not about what I want." He spat, "That is how he prefers to keep his facial hair, just do it."

"Yes Director." The Doctor replied almost dismissively.

Lysandre felt himself growing more irritated, but losing his temper at the Doctor wouldn't help. He was just in a mood that morning, but he couldn't place why. He tried to think on the reason, but found he had none. Other than the typical stress that was associated with trying to lead a society and the Professor's condition, he couldn't think of why he was more irritable. He thought about what he had been thinking about before he awoke with a start. Alas, the nature of dreams. He couldn't recall what the content had been to save his life.

"You need to try to get more sleep, Director."

Doctor Duval was beginning his morning care. He had done it many times with Lysandre still in the room and he didn't even bother to ask him if he wanted to leave. Wordlessly, Lysandre joined him and assisted in handing him what he needed so he didn't have to release his hold on Augustine. Lysandre filled a basin with warm water from a sink near one of the walls and brought it over with a rag and some non-irritating soap. He rung it out so it wasn't dripping and used it to clean the Professor's face, paying extra attention to his eyes.

"How can he seriously get that much gunk in his eyes?"

The pair continued to work until the morning care was complete. Doctor Duval was thankful for the help. Though he had to wonder if the care wasn't doing Lysandre any good. Since he saw the Director on a daily basis it was hard not to notice that his appearance drastically changed for the worse. He knew that he had taken up smoking again, but didn't want to harp on him for why he shouldn't be smoking. It wasn't like Lysandre would really listen. He was just thankful that the man had enough sense to not smoke in the room with his patient.

"I'm not going to be in the lab today Doctor, call if you need anything."

Lysandre pushed his chair back into the corner so it would out of the way for the day and neatly folded the thin blankets that he used. All he wanted to do at that moment was to get to his chambers and take a shower and at least give himself a neat shave. He wouldn't be able to fix his hair until he was out in the city.

"How is the weather this morning." He thought to ask.

Doctor Duval gave him a thoughtful look while he was currently exercising Augustine's legs, "Cold." He answered shortly, but without any hint of attitude.

Once he saw Lysandre give him an impatient look he continued, "It isn't snowing anymore, but it is still freezing. You should be careful not to slip while you are walking around. Though, I did see some people taking initiative and shoveling paths in the sidewalk."  

"That is good to hear, I'll leave you to it Doctor."

Before he stepped out into the hall he turned to the Doctor again, "Please call if there is anything you need."

Doctor Duval opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late the door already shut with a confirming click.

 He let out a long sigh, "I wish you would show improvement Professor."

Duval moved to the next leg and continued what he was doing, "I just have to wonder how long he'll keep me here... I have other duties at the hospital."

He placed the leg down with care and looked over his patient for a moment while he mused.

"I'm beginning to have my doubts, you should have shown some improvement by now."

 

* * *

 

Lysandre moved quickly to his office. He wasn't ashamed per say of his morning appearance, but he was a little embarrassed that he had forgotten to grab clean clothes for himself before he left to sleep in Augustine's room. Any staff members that crossed his path instantly turned their eyes away. It was more for respect than anything else. The staff in the labs never changed and were all very familiar that this was Lysandre's usual morning routine. It did not mean that any of the members that saw him were not whispering about him when he was out of earshot.

Lysandre had become quite the topic of discussion. Everyone who didn't know better shared their various theories about why their boss was in the state that he was. Some were harmless and simply thought that he just didn't feel the need to keep up his appearances to impress any longer. Others were more concerned and feared that something in their leader had snapped.

It was this type of conversation that caught Lysandre's ears while he approached the kitchen. Two of the cooks were arguing about what they were going to serve for breakfast, that wasn't all that strange. It was when another staff member was heard entering from a side door that Lysandre listened intently near the closed entrance. He looked a bit ridiculous with his ear pressed against it, straining to hear every word.

The staff member that just entered spoke in what was a failed whisper, "Did you two see the Director this morning?"

The first chef answered, "No, I haven't seen him come by. Why, did he need a special order?"

"No, no." The staff member continued, "I just can't believe how he looked this morning."

The second chef added quickly, "Watch your tongue, you shouldn't spread such rubbish!"

"Everyone is talking about it! Don't act all high and mighty!"

The first chef was talking again, "I have noticed some strange things myself, have you heard about what he keeps in that locked room?"

Lysandre was completely pressed against the door at this point, his fist was shaking visibly from his growing rage. He couldn't believe how his own staff had the gull to whisper behind his back. If anyone had a problem they should have the guts to approach him about it instead of making assumptions. In truth, even if his staff had come to him to share their concerns he wasn't likely to offer any answers on the subject.

"I heard that he keeps a dead body in there."

The second chef and the staff member let out a gasp. At this point Lysandre had heard enough. He banged his fist against the door, which made all three of the gossipers leap into the air. He did not enter the room however, he just made a point to make himself seen while he continued to his office. The last thing he heard from the trio was hushed fearful voices.

"Oh Arceus, do you think he heard us...."

"I told you to keep your mouth shut!"

"He really does look awful though..."

 

* * *

 

Before Lysandre shut away into his chambers, one of his wooden chairs got the brunt of his rage. It was currently resting, with two legs broken off, on the hard floor near his desk. He didn't even hesitate when he stormed into the room. His thoughts were still focused on how his staff had the nerve to speak of things they knew nothing about.

He had been fully focused on the door of his chambers at the time. The action was seemingly automatic, him grabbing the chair with one hand and sending it sailing into whatever was in the way. Thankfully, the only thing that broke was the chair. His subconscious may have maintained a certain amount of commonsense. Not enough to keep him from throwing a chair like he was having a tantrum.

The shower helped.

Lysandre toweled off his face and took a long look at himself in his mirror. He had just shaved so his facial hair was finally looking neat again. The accursed mustache was gone and his beard was trimmed back to his usual preference. His hair was hanging loosely down his back.

He wandered out into his bedroom and approached his dresser to find suitable clothing for the day. He didn't want to be too fussy, he was going to be covered by his thick coat anyway. He finally chose a white button-up that had delicate red stitching throughout. He paired it with some fitted slacks that he had specially tailored.

 All his clothes were tailored actually. He wasn't one that could walk into a clothing store and walk out with ready-to-wear outfits. He never really minded, there was something about clothing that was made only for you that made him feel special. He couldn't help but think about trying to get Augustine to get his own clothing tailored.

The Professor had his moments that he would be stubborn about certain things for no real reason. Having properly tailored shirts and pants happened to be one of those things. Eventually, Lysandre won out. It was only because he insisted that he would pay for it himself out of pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I don't think I've ever worn a shirt cut so close to my body!"

Augustine sounded like he was complaining, but his constant primping and posing in the mirror made it evident that he liked what he saw.

"That is how it should fit." Lysandre replied dryly.

His eyes trailed up and met Augustine's in the mirror after hovering for a while on the "fit" of the Professor's slacks. (Certainly on that, not on how the pants hugged his backside in a pleasing manner.)

"What if I gain weight? I will have nothing to wear, I will be reduced to elastic waistbands and sweatshirts!"

At this point Augustine couldn't contain himself. The mention of elastic had Lysandre's face repulsed like he smelled something foul. The Professor took pity on his companion and wrapped his arms around Lysandre's waist, though he was laughing while he did.

"Don't tease with such things." The taller man finally responded.

His long strong arms draped around Augustine's shoulders while his hands held steady at the small of his back.

"If anything..." He continued after enjoying the closeness for a while, "You will get thinner and everything will have to be brought in again."

~~~~~~~~~~

Lysandre grabbed his coat and a scarf from his closet and put on one of his older pairs of shoes. He didn't own a pair of boots and he didn't want to risk ruining his nicer shoes while he walked around in the snow and ice. His gloves were tucked away in his pocket so he collected them and slipped them on. Out of habit he slipped back into his bedroom to take a look at himself in his full length mirror. He had to pause to comb his hair back with his fingers, a few wild sections felt the need to block his vision.

 He scoured his room for a hat. Lysandre never typically wore a hat, but he knew at one time he owned one. Finally, it was found on the top shelf of his closet tucked behind a shoebox. A shoebox that was filled with possibly too many cravats. Even though he really hated to wear a hat he made the choice to deal with it until he got his hair properly addressed.

 

The hair salon, Coiffure Clips, was a bit of a walk from his cafe and Lysandre found his pace to be slow. It was cold just as the Doctor had warned him. He really couldn't remember a time that winter hit Kalos this badly. Sure, Snowbell city was always covered with ice and snow, but even it didn't run as cold as the streets of Lumiose were currently. Lysandre's mind felt the need to remind him that the only reason that Snowbell city had so much snow and ice was because of the gym and its ice type pokémon. That wasn't the case any longer.

The door let out a cheerful chime as he entered the tidy salon. Amazingly tidy and fairly bare now that he took a moment to look around. There were a couple neat stacks of boxes that must have been recently packed up and carefully taped. He almost chuckled at the use of hot pink packing tape. Then it struck him that he nearly forgot that the salon was going to be moved to the northern section of the city. Soon this area would be cut off to save power.

"Hold on a moment!" The polite voice of the stylist called out from a back room. "I'm just finishing my breakfast!"

"That is quite alright, I'm bothering you at an early hour." Lysandre announced, matching her polite tone.

Sounds of dishes swiftly being moved and furniture shifting could be heard from the other room. Soon after, the young face of the stylist presented herself. She grabbed an apron she had draped over a nearby chair and tied it snuggly around her waist.

"Oh my goodness, you're here!"

She was practically spilling out her speech at this point. Lysandre gave her a reassuring smile while he tried to recall her name. A lot of time had gone by since his last visit. Most of the time he was fine with doing his own styling, but his hair was in desperate need.

Suddenly the name came to him, "Viviette!"

She jumped at his sudden recall, "Oui, you know you can just call me Vivi though really. It has been so long."

Her feet were shuffling while she continued to speak, "Please take a seat, what can I do for you... Director?"

Lysandre allowed the small woman, she was still practically a girl, to lead him to one of the chairs that were situated in front of a large mirror. He removed his coat and placed it in the neighboring chair next to his. The hat was also removed, allowing his long hair to flow out to its full glory.

"Oh my." Vivi whispered. Her face flushed when she noticed Lysandre raising his eyebrow at her in the mirror. "It is quite long isn't it. How would you like it Director?"

"Lysandre." He responded, "I have enough people that call me Director, please don't add to it."

"Sorry." She murmured.

Vivi's eyes were hidden behind her dyed black hair, she awkwardly tucked a blonde chunk behind her ear. She collected a comb from her front pocket and silently began to work any knots out of Lysandre's hair. There weren't many to deal with, so the task was done quickly.

"Vivi," Lysandre began in a kind tone, "Can you make it to my old usual?"

Her bright eyes lit up at this, "You mean styled up and everything!"

He nodded and cracked a smile at her excitement, "Yes, you are my only hope. You are after all the best."

"Thank you Director!" She paused suddenly, "Oh my! I mean thank you Lysandre!"

She continued to comb through his hair with great care and devotion.

"I could wash it for you with your favorite shampoo, I've hidden some in the back room so I wouldn't use it up."

"Maybe another day Vivi.." He paused a moment then turned in the chair to face her, "What is wrong with the shampoo out here?"

Viviette's face soon looked like she had used far too much rouge, "Well I was running low so I had to get creative... I started to refill the bottles with Furfrou shampoo!"

She looked absolutely horrified. Lysandre on the other hand was trying not to openly laugh, he failed once she spoke again.

"Please don't tell Malva that's what I've been using on her hair!"

 

* * *

 

 

The Central Pokémon Center was a hubbub of voices and bodies. Even though it was early, there was a high amount of energy that reverberated through all the members in the building. Aliana jumped up gracefully onto the nurse station and cleared her throat to address the crowd.

She gave Mable a little wink to try to make her smile before she spoke, "Good morning everyone!"

The group all returned her greeting in unison.

"As most of you may know, we got approved to begin our work on redirecting power on the grid." Even though Aliana hadn't slept the night before, you could hardly tell based on her excitement.

Mable still felt awful from the night before, but seeing Ailana announce her plans for the day's work was uplifting. The red-headed scientist was truly in her element, Mable was glad they would be working together.

Bryony and Celosia were also present for the meeting. They were leaning together against the wall near the entrance. Bryony was occupying herself by people watching. There was a couple currently walking the freshly shoveled sidewalk while keeping their coats wound tightly around themselves. Celosia glanced at her companion when she heard a muffled laugh escape her mouth.

The taller of the pair outside was now flat on his back from slipping on a sheet of ice. His partner's face was now flushed with embarrassment as she tried to help him to his feet and soon joined him on the ground.

Celosia couldn't help but smile at the sight, especially with Bryony trying desperately not to guffaw and interrupt the meeting.

"Ow!"

Celosia suddenly slapped Bryony in the forearm and pointed back out at the scene. The couple was now being assisted to their feet by a tall man with flaming Pyroar-like hair.

"Aliana! The Director is here!" Bryony announced to the room.

The crowd hushed immediately and dozens of eyes were now glued outside. Sure enough, it was the Director and he was indeed strolling into the center. Mable couldn't help but notice that he looked like his old self again, she was glad.  

Invading icy wind caused some members to shiver as Lysandre marched proudly through the doorway. His eyes scanned the familiar faces thoughtfully before he tried to lighten the atmosphere by offering a smile. He made his way to the counter where Aliana was standing. At this point she was now back on the ground smoothing out a couple sheets of blueprints.

"Good morning, please don't let me interrupt." Lysandre said while dishing out the charm he reserved for public speaking.

"I was just finishing up Director." Aliana gestured towards Mable, "We are just about to take our teams now."

Lysandre nodded while he looked over the plans that were drawn out on the blueprints.

"All of South Boulevard and everything split at the canal, blacked out..."

Lysandre muttered out his speech while he double checked the plans. He seemed pleased and proceeded to roll up the paper and place it in Aliana's grasp.

"What is this?" He suddenly inquired, spying the blueprint that was hidden underneath.

Aliana peered at the blueprint in question after she handed the one in her hand off to Mable who had joined them near the nurse station. She appeared puzzled for a brief moment before she gave an answer.

"I must have grabbed that by accident, that is the blueprints for the Prism Tower."

Lysandre lifted the blueprints up into his grasp as he stared at it. His eyes glazed over while he dove into his own thoughts. He didn't even hear Aliana or Mable excuse themselves to leave with their team. Thankfully he auto piloted when a few members of the team wished him farewell.

 He nodded his head in their direction before he moved to the end of the counter near the, now unused, PC to look over the blueprints further. His train of thought was interrupted briefly when he caught a few quick glances of members that remained. It was strange he thought, they looked at him almost fearfully. He brushed the thought aside and collected a pen to start to jotting down notes that came to mind.

_"Some look up to you like you are a King or a God..."_

Lysandre was once accused of having a God-complex, though he would disagree. A King though, he could live with being seen as a King. What good is a King without a proper castle? The light scratching of pen meeting paper became more rapid.

Sure, the Parfum Palace was fit for a King, but it only served in showing the past. Lysandre had no interest being like a past King, he was the future. No, the Prism Tower would serve far better. Not only was it central in Lumiose, it also sat central in all of Kalos. What better a place for King Lysandre to live, in the very heart of his Kingdom.

"Well I'm ready to begin my group meeting!" Bryony called out, drawing Lysandre's attention. He kept one ear focused on her presentation while he continued writing on the blueprint.

She bound up to the front of the center, Celosia followed calmly behind. With an effortless leap the green-haired and possibly over caffeinated scientist was standing on the counter like the presenter before her.

The group that she was presenting to was much smaller than the group that left. Only about ten or so members compared to the nearly forty that left for the power station. In fairness, the group consisted of members that made up a makeshift police force. "Peacekeepers" was a more preferred term used by Bryony and her members.

In a society that was built on the idea of no more war or crime, having a large police force didn't make much sense. Lysandre was no fool however and Bryony seemed eager to lead the movement. So a small group was collected and it seemed like it was enough. At least Lysandre was under the impression it was enough.

"I don't have to tell you all how damned pissed I am!" Bryony's sudden irritated tone caused Lysandre to look up from his writing.

"We finally settle the issue of infighting only to have a filthy thief on the loose!"

"A thief?" Lysandre inquired.

Everyone, the peacekeepers and the other remaining members present, shifted nervously towards the Flare Leader. He was standing at his full height, no longer hunched over scribbling away with the pen. He made his way to the center of the counter, still standing taller than Bryony even though she stood on the nurse station.

"Yes unfortunately, and they have yet to be caught."

She pulled some pictures out of her coat pocket and handed them to Lysandre while she continued speaking.

"Not only do they rob the apartments while the occupants are away, they also trash them."

Each picture showed much of the same: drawers pulled out of dressers, dishes smashed in kitchens, furniture flipped and shredded, and in one even the mattress of the bed was slashed.

Lysandre's knuckles whitened as he gripped the collection of photos. He handed them back to Bryony who put them away in her pocket.

"Why wasn't I told about this sooner!"

No one dared answer him, they just stared at him silently. Bryony and Celosia tried to offer him a wordless answer with their eyes.

Neither wanted to be the one to say: _we didn't tell you because we are worried about you, we didn't tell you because we worry you are becoming sick, we didn't tell you because you already have enough stress._ Such things could be said in private, not while others who wouldn't understand were near. Not while others who needed to see Lysandre as nothing but a pillar of strength could hear.  

Thankfully, Lysandre understood. He pushed down the lingering rage and proceeded to exercise his leadership skills.

"Bryony, I will be assigning you more team members."

She opened her mouth in interject, but was stopped by Lysandre raising his hand.

"I understand that we are stretched thin, but I can pull people from the labs. I have too many people working there as it is. I will also personally start a campaign to get more volunteers."

The mood in the center shifted from concern to excitement quickly after that. Bryony couldn't hide her pleased expression as she leapt off her roost and vigorously shook Lysandre's hand in thanks. The other peacekeepers all swarmed around him, each sharing their own jubilation of the situation.

"There are a few things I must attend to with this." Lysandre spoke sternly.

Bryony understood and shooed her group along. A few members made a point to quickly shake their leader's hand before flocking near the exit where Bryony was now waiting for them. She gave Celosia a quick wink and a promise of dinner together later before she lead her group out to brave the cold.

Now that Bryony's group was gone this left Celosia and a small intimate crew of five. Each member was a skilled contractor with various architectural skill sets. Celosia was far more soft spoken than her fellow scientists and much preferred working with a small number and allowing her crew to relay orders to their own workers.

Lysandre didn't notice until one of the contractors spoke to him that he had been approached.

"Director, what blueprint is that?" The voice was deep and confident yet belonged to a short portly fellow whose fine hair was beginning to thin.

Lysandre knew that this was a skilled man however and presented the blueprint covered with his notes to him. The man's sage green eyes looked over it briefly, a pleasant smile followed by a nearly Papa Noël quality laugh left his lips.

"This is too easy Director, my workers could complete this in no time if the weather allows."

Lysandre motioned Celosia over to join them.

"Do you have the ability to take on this project?" He pointed at the Prism Tower blueprint that the contractor was still holding.

Celosia thought quietly for a few moments. she was thinking about some the projects that her team had to complete, minor weather damage, repairs to heating units, roads, but that had to wait until spring.

"I think we can do this now..."

Despite the fact that she didn't sound sure, Lysandre was satisfied to leave it at that for now. He was still bothered by the fact that there was a thief among his followers. Surely he thought, it had to be a member that wasn't fully part of Team Flare.

No it certainly couldn't be, this had to be someone who snuck in. Someone who shouldn't be in his society. The infighting he understood once he thought about it, a bit of bickering was normal and human. But a thief, this was a cancer that needed to be treated before it spread. Such filth would not be left to fester and disturb his followers.

He said his goodbyes to the remaining members in the center and marched back out into the cold. Even if Bryony's team couldn't catch the thief, he would make it so it was hard for them to strike again. It was time for him to put Malva back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until part two was also done, but I felt like posting this now. Part two coming soon. 
> 
> Some music I listened to:
> 
> Bittersweet- Ellie Goulding  
> The Neighbourhood- Staying Up


	8. Chasing Spring: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter depicts a scene of extreme violence and bodily harm.

**(Three months after the weapon fired)**

_"Good Afternoon Team Flare faithful, it is your beloved Malva here with your news bulletin: (static) Prism Tower's construction was completed today. The lead contractor had this to say about the project: I believe the tower should serve as a guiding light for our society's accomplishments- (more static and a few garbled words.) That is right, housing is now available in the nearby towns of Santalune, Camphrier, Courmaline, Laverre, and Dendemille. In other news, we continue to ask everyone to keep on the lookout for any suspicious activities. If anyone has anything to report bring the information to Peacekeeper Bryony or directly to the Director."_

Pale fingers fumbled for the dial and worked to shut off the battery powered radio.

"That is enough of listening to her ärgerlich voice for now." Xerosic spoke to himself in his native tongue. He was taking a lunch break that consisted of dried fruits and meats washed down with a bottled water. He had thought that he might begin to lose some weight once his diet became rather limited. He either had to scavenge for supplies himself or wait until Malva arrived periodically with a box that sometimes consisted of something good. That was few and far between for her though, she much preferred to grace him with her presence and not much else.  

Regardless, other than some thinning in the face he really didn't think he was losing much weight, not that he was trying to anyway. He really didn't care either way, he let vanity be the problem of others .

After a not so satisfying meal he made his way outside. There was a light breeze that brought the scent of popping buds from nearby trees. After a horrible, seemingly never-ending winter the weather suddenly became mild. It appeared that despite it all there would be an early spring.

Xerosic adjusted a pair of goggles with dark lenses, to protect his eyes from the sun, so they fit more snuggly. Even though it was gross, he picked at a bit of peeling skin on his nose that was evidence of the last time he spent too much time out in the sun. 

"Autsch!" He hissed when the skin tore, leaving his nose raw. He dabbed the area with his fingertips to check for bleeding. He was fine, much worse injuries had occurred in the past. As proof of such injuries Xerosic had some visible scarring on his scalp left from being tossed like an Olympic hammer across Lysandre's Cafe.    

He turned to gather up the supplies he had been working with before he took his break. Laid out on a wooden picnic table near his cabin was the device he was tinkering with before. Of course now the "Lysandre machine" was back in one piece. Even though it looked functional it really wasn't, at least not to Xerosic's standard.

The device was soon slipped onto his back, the single gauntlet placed on his hand. With a flip of an internal switch the insect-like tendrils whirled to life and buzzed around the head of their new master. There was a well worn path that lead to a circular clearing near the weapon where no new grass was growing. It wasn't from constantly being trampled that caused no grass to grow in the single location, the grass was dead from Xerosic's experiments.

The small device, small compared to the ancient weapon, was supposed to work like a small scale version of the original. It did, for the most part. Xerosic managed to get the device to suck out life force, at least he thought he did. At the very least he made the device a dandy weed killer. The issue he was facing was that he couldn't seem to reverse the process.

It was all well and good to take life away, it seemed impossible to give it back. He thought though, as he aimed the gauntlet clad arm towards another patch of fresh spring grass, that today would be the day he figured it out. The buzzing ends followed where the gauntlet pointed and with a quick flash the patch of grass was brown and shriveled.

After taking a moment to adjust the gauntlet further he aimed again at the dead patch and prepared to fire. At first nothing happened, but soon a dull hum could be heard from the device's back. This sound grew louder and louder before another flash of bright light, much brighter than before, shot out from the flying ends.

It struck the intended target with great force. Xerosic was not prepared for this to occur and was promptly thrown off his feet and send backwards. He tensed his body, expecting to hit the ground rather roughly. Instead he found that he had been caught and was being held safely by a pair of large hands, large hands that belonged to a much larger man.

"Be careful." Said the man that Xerosic knew was AZ, his voice held a high amount of gentleness for such a giant.

Xerosic allowed himself to be assisted to his feet. All he could do after that was stare up at the man that was his boss's ancestor. He felt short next to Lysandre, but he never let that intimidate him. AZ however, was on a whole other level. Xerosic felt like he was a dwarf compared to this man's height.

Finally the scientist collected his thoughts the best he could and spoke, "This is all according to plan!"

AZ cocked his head to one side while he appeared to study Xerosic, his gaze went from his face, to the device, to the weapon, to the patch of dead grass, and then finally back to Xerosic's face. Somehow, Xerosic just knew that this man wasn't buying his statement.

With the device still attached to him he threw his arms up into the air and huffed, "What!? What do you want!? Are you here to help me or tell me that everything I'm doing is wrong!"

AZ again didn't seem to be fazed by the scientist yelling at him, he just watched Xerosic take a couple of breaths before he thought to respond. He spoke slowly and precisely.

"I said nothing like that, I simply told you to be careful."  

What did this man want, Xerosic pondered again. It was hard to believe he was once a great King. Looking at him now you wouldn't be able to tell. His hair was long and knotted, his clothes hung on his body and were dirty, and his eyes looked distant and tired. So much for the romantic ideas of immortality, AZ showed a much more realistic view into what such a thing really looked like. At least with the eyes Xerosic could see the resemblance between AZ and Lysandre.

That and the height was the only thing that could be said was the same between the two. Though, the idea of using a weapon to kill a massive amount of people and pokémon was another thing they had in common. Other than those things, the two men could almost be seen as opposites. Where Lysandre was hard spoken and had an anger that could rival a Gyarados, AZ seemed to be softer and rather subdued.

Xerosic had to wager that thousands of years had that affect on someone. Even if anger ran in that dysfunctional bloodline, that was a hell of a lot of time to work it out. It then occurred that it was entirely possible that the firing of his weapon could have reopened some past rage. This brought back the question as to why AZ had shown himself to Xerosic in the first place.

"You never told me why you are here." Xerosic did his best to maintain eye contact while he asked his question. This proved to be difficult, even if AZ had a gentleness, his eyes were still cold.  

"This is my weapon." He said calmly, "You are the one in question."

Xerosic couldn't argue with that logic even though he wanted to. It would seem that the only way for him to get any sort of clear answer from AZ would be to first offer his own explanation. He sighed and let the device drop to the ground without much care and removed the gauntlet and let it join the rest of the metal pile. The buzzing ends cut into the dirt and dead grass briefly before they silenced themselves and went still. AZ raised his eyebrows at the scientist's apparent carelessness, but remained silent on the matter.

Xerosic didn't really know where to start so he just rambled. He told the giant about the Professor and how for some reason he thought he could help. (Even though he thought that it was pointless he admitted.)

AZ stood motionless and simply listened to every word. Xerosic came to realize that he was an incredibly good listener and that he may have been a bit starved for some sort of human interaction. The only company that he received was that of Malva and she was not the type of company that he wanted to keep.

 No, Malva only came around when there was something that she wanted from him. Other than to bug him about his progress, it seemed she often had more carnal urges. This would have amused him more if it wasn't for the fact it made him feel disgusting. How pathetic it was for him to reduce himself to her plaything. Considering he did nothing to stop her, it just made him even more piteous and weak.    

He did make the attempt to get into contact with Mable again, but every message was left unanswered and soon he quit trying. AZ even listened to Xerosic talk about his feelings for her. Which he blabbed out for no real reason other than he had no one else he could talk about on the subject.

Soon he tired himself with all the talking and fell silent. There was a bit of relief with finally being able to get out everything he had dealt with for the last few months.

AZ, at some point during his ramble, had sat down in the grass. He was currently handling one of the ends of the Lysandre Machine and was looking over its design. Once he noticed that Xerosic was done speaking he simply asked a single question.

"Why do you want to help this Professor?"

Xerosic was slightly taken aback by this. He had hoped that AZ would have offered the reason for his presence once he divulged information. Though he did have to think, why was he trying to help? He didn't want to say that it was to get back on Lysandre's good side, but it wasn't entirely untrue. The main reason seemed to be that he knew his theory on the Professor's status was correct. He just had to prove it.

Finally, he offered his answer, "The Professor is innocent and deserves some chance at life I believe."

"Wouldn't he be better helped if he was allowed to die?" AZ replied with surprising haste.

"I don't think that is our choice to make honestly." Xerosic retorted.

The giant placed the part of the device he was investigating back with the rest of the pile and rose to his feet. This again made Xerosic feel like a dwarf. After another moment of silence, which was becoming all too frequent during the conversation, AZ's gentle voice filled the air.

"I will help you."

Xerosic was sure he had misheard and at the sight of his confusion AZ repeated the same line. This time he couldn't deny that AZ did indeed just offer his assistance. Xerosic reached out his hand to shake the giant's but was reminded that he still didn't know why AZ showed himself.

"You still haven't told me why you are here?"

AZ grabbed his hand and shook it before he answered, "I was here to destroy that device, now I am here to assist you."

 

* * *

 

**(Five months after the weapon fired)**

April showers were becoming a nearly daily occurrence in Lumiose. Citizens would scamper down sidewalks with coats, book bags, and anything else they had if they were without an umbrella to shield themselves from the drizzle. It was the first day in a while that the sky was clear and there seemed to be no chance of rain. It was comfortable with a cool breeze, perfect. The many decorative trees that were planted throughout the city were in full bloom. The colors ranged from white to soft pink. Some shrubs outside business fronts were vivid yellow.

Lysandre was sitting near the top of his new home in the Prism Tower. Out of one of the large windows he watched as his followers walked around the plaza with family and loved ones. A lot of progress had been made lately so he didn't mind that today was serving as a sort of holiday. A few children were observed playing a game that looked to be tag. The weather was too nice to hold classes at the academy.

Lysandre tapped his pen on a checklist that he was reading through. With each check mark a smile threatened to make itself known. It failed once he got to a small note at the bottom of the list.

It simply stated: _Augustine._

Lysandre's new office was luxurious, it took up the entire expanse of the floor it resided on. Long thick red curtains framed each towering window, they were currently tied back with gold rope to allow in the natural light. His desk and most of his furniture had been brought in from his old office. He even took the time at one point to clear furniture out of his apartment that was located near the rouge plaza by the finest restaurants and cafes that the city offered.

His eyes trailed the many sitting areas and statues that depicted beautiful pokémon that would soon be nothing but myth to future generations. He stopped at the central elevator that had detailed doors with a carving of a Pyroar rearing its head to roar proudly.

At his request, he had his personal chambers up on the highest floor. In order to get the elevator to travel up that high it required a personal key-card. At this time only he and the Doctor had one. Augustine's care had been moved to the new location soon after the tower's remodeling was complete. To Lysandre's relief, Celosia took over the project of the top floor personally so that few people would question why he needed a hospital setup in his chambers.

Moving the Professor proved to be quite stressful. Doctor Duval was vehemently against the idea, but stayed near to insure that his patient was safe. Bryony and Celosia made sure the path that was being traveled was clear of onlookers. Mable and Aliana stayed near Lysandre's side and assisted with the move. Everything went according to plan and the whole group breathed a sigh of relief.

Relief was still painfully short lived for Lysandre. Nearly every night he would awaken in a cold sweat, flashes and images from what he was dreaming about would remain and then disappear entirely. He could never put his finger on what it was that tormented him so in his dreams. Every time this interrupted his slumber he would walk barefoot across his cold polished floor and sit in the recliner that was pressed against Augustine's bed. He would lace their fingers together the best he could and try to ignore how frail the Professor looked. Then he would finally fall back to sleep, switch posts with the Doctor once he arrived, and travel out to maintain the image that he was a strong leader.

The very doors he had been staring at suddenly came to life and slid open. Doctor Duval walked out steadily and proceeded towards one of the chairs that were placed in front of Lysandre's desk. Lysandre was just about to light up a cigarette, but thought he could wait until he found out what the Doctor wanted.

Duval didn't sit right away, it wasn't until Lysandre offered him the seat that his hand was resting on that he finally took it.

"Is everything alright?"

"Nothing has changed, just as always."

It was clear that the Doctor was irritated, this wasn't anything new to Lysandre. Doctor Duval was beginning to become restless with the situation that he was in. Lysandre had hoped that moving to the Tower would have calmed him down. It did for awhile, but it would seem that he was beginning to get stir-crazy yet again.

"You said so yourself that it could take some time." Lysandre tried to keep an air of pleasantness with his tone.

However, they were about to have that conversation again, Lysandre knew it. Sure enough, Duval let out a familiar long exaggerated breath.

"I know what I said Director. With all due respect though, he should have shown some signs of improvement and he just hasn't."

At this point, Lysandre slipped into a "fuck it" attitude, pushed pleasantry aside, and lit up the cigarette he was now craving. Duval wrinkled his nose at him, but continued with his point.

"He won't last much longer, you know that right? I'm running low on supplies, I've had to cut down the flow on his feeding tube. That's why he is getting thinner. It may be time for you to consider-"

The Doctor was swiftly cut off by Lysandre striking his fist on the desk and giving him a very dangerous look. After a short moment of Lysandre staring down at the Doctor and offering silent threats with his shaking fist he spoke with strange calmness.

"Take the rest of the day off, return in the morning and never speak of this again."

Clearly now wanting to leave as soon as possible Doctor Duval rose from the chair, "Yes Director."

He fled to the elevator and soon disappeared from view behind the Pyroar doors. Lysandre waited until he saw Duval exit the building and join the many people that were still enjoying the pleasant day before he snuffed out the remains of his cigarette. After taking some time to organize the contents of his desk he made his way over to the elevator doors, pulled his own keycard out of his pocket, and ordered the elevator to take him up to his chambers.

 

* * *

  

Mable felt something she hadn't felt in a long time:

Actual bliss.

It took some coaxing to convince her to spend the day out. Now that she was, she was glad that she did. With a deep breath sweet smelling flowers filled her senses. Her blue hair was pulled back into a loose ponyta-tail that hit just between her shoulder blades. The passing breeze caught the hem of her floral chiffon top. She had paired it with some navy blue capri pants and white strappy sandals.

Aliana walked at her side while they traveled on the Northern Boulevard. She had her hair loose and wild instead of its usual slicked back appearance. A light stylish jacket covered her arms, she wore a red tank top underneath that he tucked into her dark wash shinny jeans. She was carrying a woven picnic basket in one arm, her other playfully linked with one of Mable's.

Mable felt herself being guided at a swifter pace than before, they passed the hospital that sat across from the opening of the Autumal Avenue. Autumal Avenue was where her apartment was located.

"You cannot head back home yet Mables."

Mable could only laugh at how Aliana was acting. Truthfully, she wasn't in a rush to head to her one bedroom abode. The day was proving to be beautiful. Other citizens were out on the streets, others appeared to be traveling out of the city by car to enjoy the countryside. It was almost perfect.

The same time last year they would do much of the same thing. Aliana would pack a small picnic for them to enjoy when they got sick of walking and window shopping. The major difference this time around is that there were no happy barks from Aliana's Mightyena or whistling coming from Mable's Houndoom. They were not following obediently at their heels with tails wagging and tongues lolling out of their fuzzy mouths. No doubt looking forward to the treats that they knew were packed away for them.

Mable tried not to let these memories put her down. Ailana went out of her way to get her up that morning, took the time to brew her some coffee and pack the lunch she was currently carrying around for them. She would not turn into Mable the melancholy, at least not for the rest of the day.

Today she was happy. Today it was her and Aliana, the unstoppable duo, just like when they were children.

"We're going to eat our picnic out on route fourteen, Bryony and Celosia are already waiting for us."

Mable had to remind herself that she also had others that cared. Bryony and Celosia had also become invaluable to her. She was thankful that Team Flare gave her such good friends. The pair was sitting together on a blanket that they brought from their shared flat. They were leaning up against each other while they watched children play on the playground that sat just outside the route gate.

_"Roar roar! I'm a big Pyroar!"_

_"Ahhh hahaha! Don't bite me!"_

Soon the four Flare scientists were all sitting together on the blanket. They munched on bagged snacks and berry preserve spread on bread that Aliana baked herself.

"I love you Aliana, but hand me some more jam. This bread is dry!"

"You try baking with no eggs Bryony, next time we eat your cooking!"

"Please no, save yourselves." Celosia quietly remarked and the whole group erupted in shared laughter.

 Bryony told lively tales of late night stakeouts, that may have not been entirely true, but were sure entertaining. Celosia brought some bricks of chocolate that she split up between them. She didn't even get the chance to enjoy her own portion, some of the children from the playground gave her Poochyena eyes and she gave her piece to them. Bryony came to the rescue and split her chocolate with Celosia, she was rewarded with a kiss.

They all assisted with cleaning up after they were done with their meal. A few leftover cans of lemonade and bags of chips were handed off to the children that were still playing. Aliana asked if Bryony and Celosia wanted to join them to the Centrico Plaza to see the tower lit up, but they kindly refused.

"Nah have a nice evening planned for just me and Celosia." Bryony said while she gave her partner a nudge and a wink. This caused Celosia's face to grow hot.

As they walked off together Mable called out, "You two be good now!"

"Never!" Bryony called back, then she wrapped her arm around Celosia's shoulder and the pair exited through the gate.

"I'm so happy you came out with me today." Aliana said quietly while she collected the picnic basket and slid it back onto her arm.

"Me too."

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The setting sun didn't drop the temperature to uncomfortable levels. It was still around twenty degrees Celsius when the two women strolled in. Aliana couldn't help but shine with some pride as the street lamps gave off their soft glows, right on cue she mentioned.

It was a comforting sight to see the plaza so full of smiling faces. Some families sat at benches with sleepy babies wrapped in snug patterned blankets. Couples shared tender touches and kisses before running wildly to more private corners.

There was one sight in particular that caught Mable's eye as she sat on one of the empty benches beside Aliana. The Doctor, Doctor Duval was out walking with a woman that looked to be about his age. Walking between them, hand in hand with both, was a young boy that shared the Doctor's shock of pale blonde hair.

Mable tried not to stare for too long, but it surprised her to see that he had a family. She was aware that the schedule that Lysandre kept him on didn't offer him much in free time. It was a bit sad, that he was kept so busy when he had a wife and child.

It was all the more reason to be thankful for the day they had. Once the time hit about ten Mable felt a yawn building up. She was unable to stop it, this then caused Aliana to yawn as well.

"Alright Mables, you've infected me."

The two walked together to the Magenta Plaza. Aliana gave Mable a big hug, before she turned to head into Lysandre's Cafe. She kept a comfortable residence in the labs that she preferred over her old apartment that she use to own in the same building as Mable. At one time she tried to convince Mable to move in, there was plenty of place she argued. Mable refused, she didn't own many things so her apartment was something that was an accomplishment to her. Even if it wasn't the nicest, not many could say that they owned a place in the city. She was sure glad that she didn't have to pay rent on it anymore. It was a nice perk that she couldn't ignore.

Of the few people that still lived in the building she appeared to be the only one coming home that night. She could still hear the faint voices of people laughing, the night was still young for some it seemed. She traveled the aged stairs of her building until she reached the floor that her space occupied.

The building had gaudy yellowing wallpaper that as beginning to peel in places, the heating units tended to go out randomly. Thank Arceus that Celosia was always just a call away. Despite the building's obvious flaws, she found it charming. The hall's wallpaper reminded her of her Grandma's house that she use to visit as a child.

In the winter the gurgling radiators, that were annoying to some, were like a sweet lullaby that lulled her to sleep. In fact, when they would go out she would wake up instantly. Most of the time Celosia and her team would find her huddled in front of her open oven keeping warm until they fixed the furnace. Even with that, she wouldn't trade it for anything.

She fished the heavy key out of her pocket only to discover that her lock had been broken. This caused her to instinctively reach for her belt out of habit. She cringed at the fact that she felt a little lost without being able to rely on the comfort of her pokémon at a time like this. Her next action was to pull out her holocaster to send out a message to Bryony, she would have to report that someone appeared to have broken into her apartment.

She pocketed the device and carefully opened the door to investigate. She was stunned by just the sheer amount of damage once she entered her apartment. She was so stunned in fact that she didn't feel her device vibrate with a response from Bryony advising her to not enter her apartment until she and her team got there.

The first thing that she noticed was her couch flipped completely over with the cushions removed and thrown to all corners of her living room. Her TV, that she hardly used anymore, had the screen smashed in and it was now resting on the floor. A bookcase that she and Aliana build together was toppled over, the books were now a pile and some had pages ripped out. She slowly walked the paper lined floor over to her kitchen.

Someone took the time to pull out every drawer and throw them onto the gaudy checkered laminate. Her feet crunched broken glass as she lifted a couple pieces of a broken tea set. She could still make out the hand painted flowers and Combees.

Another crunch of broken glass caught her ear, she turned abruptly to face a young man. She recognized him by the armband that he wore on his jacket, bright red with gold stitching of a Pidove, he was one of the Peacekeepers from Bryony's team.

"What a mess, huh?"

Mable noticed that he spoke with a suspicious shakiness in his voice, like he was nervous. She was nervous too, she was now trapped in her kitchen by this man.

"Yeah." She began cautiously. She didn't want to alert this intruder that she was on to him, "I'm glad that a Peacekeeper is here though, I should wait out in the hall."

She tried to move past him, but was stopped by his body filling the gap she tried to squeeze through.

"N..no, I think you should stay here."

His hands grabbed for her shoulders, but Mable twisted away from him, "NO!" She yelled, "Don't touch me!"

Now the intruder became desperate, he lunged for her again and threw her down onto the glass covered floor. Mable was full of adrenaline at this point, she hardly felt the glass cut into her arms and back. Her long nails swung out and gouged into the attacker's face. He let out a loud cry before his fists slammed down on her own face.

Mable sputtered, her eyes welled up from her nose breaking. She refused to give up however, even with her arms now pinned she spat and kicked wildly.

Curses and slurs were yelled out as the attacker tried to gain control of the situation. He knew he was running out of time so to Mable's horror he brandished a knife that he was keeping in his back pocket.

Everything moved like a blur to Mable's tear coated eyes, her hands were raised defensively to try to prevent the inevitable. How strange it was that she really didn't register pain every time the flash of the blade came down on her.

" _One."_

She only knew that it was piercing her from the blade's red glossy covering as it was raised again.

_"Two."_

Could her heart leap out of her chest? It really felt like it could. Maybe it would be cut out. Her vision was beginning to fade. The blade raised again.

_"Three."_

What would people think when she was found later she wondered. Surely, Aliana would cry. Mable really didn't want to make her cry. Would Lysandre get another assistant to replace her quickly? Would she be buried in her own grave, or would she be thrown in a pit like the many dead before her. What would Xerosic think.

_"Four."_

Mable could barely register what was occurring around her, she could only focus on the severe burning in her chest with each labored breath. She didn't feel the pressure of another body on her any longer, was he done?

"GET DOWN! DROP THE WEAPON!"

Was that Bryony's voice? She couldn't see, but she could make out the muffled shouts and the sounds of people moving through broken glass. A sudden pressure was applied on her chest, she could barely make out the bright green hair.

"CALL THE HOSPITAL! SHE NEEDS SURGERY NOW!"

The last thing Mable could make out before she lost consciousness was the feeling of weightlessness and the cool outside air rustling her hair.  

 

* * *

 

Xerosic finally fell asleep in his bed, even with one of the springs assaulting his backside. The night was still and without the melody of late night pokémon chirps, very quiet. It wasn't the silence that made it hard for Xerosic to sleep. No, he had long grown used to that. It was the constant experiments and failures that made him restless. Even with the brains behind the original weapon's design assisting him, it was a difficult task.

It also didn't help that AZ wasn't direct with his help. He was more apt to stand near and observe and occasionally lend a few careful words.

One of these times he spoke he simply questioned the pokeball that Xerosic still had clipped to his belt. He nearly choked on the sip of water he was taking at the question.

"It... it is my Crobat."

AZ told a couple of steps towards him, it was all he needed to close the distance, and studied the capsule for a moment before he offered more words.

"You shouldn't keep it trapped, you should let it have peace."

Xerosic's face grew hot, but not with anger.

They took a break from the experiments after that. AZ dug a nice grave by the edge of the forest. He disappeared briefly and returned with a large stone that would serve as a headstone. The Crobat that had been released was wrapped in blankets that were scavenged from the other cabins.

AZ lifted the Crobat easily and placed it down into the grave. He said a few words and then left Xerosic to say some in private, before he left he heard Xerosic say, "Es tut mir leid."

It made AZ think of this feelings for his Floette, sometimes you could never be sorry enough.

After that AZ appeared to try to assist more readily. Even with this they both kept coming across the same problem, they couldn't get enough power to reverse the process.

"I'm not trying to raise a dead body!" Xerosic grumbled and complained while he made adjustments to the back piece.

"A large amount of life force is still needed." AZ noted the many dead patches of grass that dotted the location around them, "It requires more than what you are harvesting."

"Then what do I need to do!?"

Xerosic sent his screwdriver flying, it was caught and returned to him so he could continue making adjustments.

"You know the answer, just as I do."

AZ didn't stay long enough to explain himself. Before Xerosic could try to question him further, he was already gone.

 It wasn't until Xerosic was lying down in the cabin, staring at the device spread out on a small dining table, that it hit him. Did AZ really just suggest what he thought he did? That didn't seem like him at all, but that was the only answer wasn't it? The only available source of life force was walking the streets of Lumiose, having family outings in the surrounding countryside, and sitting in an overly decorated office.

Even if that was an answer, it really wasn't. If that is what it took, how could he turn the device on someone? His mind continued to run with various scenarios:

Him finding someone walking alone on a nature trail and using the device on them. Him waiting for Malva to stop by so he could "show" her how his research was coming along. He even put together an amusing ironic fantasy of using the device on Lysandre. That really would defeat the purpose though, wouldn't it?

In the end, before he finally succumbed to his weariness, he couldn't truly think of any situation where he could kill someone. It appeared he was stuck again with no answer just like before.

_(Bzz bzz bzz bzz.)_

Xerosic rubbed his eyes and slapped around at the ground to find his holocaster, mainly to shut it up so he could go back to sleep. Who could honestly be calling him anyway he wondered. By the time he swiped the device off the floor it had stopped buzzing.

"A missed call from Aliana?"

As odd as that was, he didn't feel like returning her call at this hour. Not when he was finally getting to sleep. Before he could return the holocaster onto the wooden floor it lit up again.

_(Bzz bzz bzz bzz.)_

"Fine! I'll answer you." He pressed the answer button and Aliana's hologram projected itself. Once her image became clear it was painfully apparent that she had been crying. This caused Xerosic to sit up properly on the edge of his bed, he tried to sound soothing when he addressed his fellow scientist.

"Aliana, what is wrong? You never call me."

The connection for the call wasn't be best but what he could make out between the occasional static and warped image was her continued crying.

"M..Mable!" She finally choked out.

A sudden stab of pained panic struck Xerosic's chest, "What? What happened with Mable?"

"S... she was attacked... Oh Arceus she might not make it!"

Xerosic's heartbeat sounded like a drum in the small cabin, his pulse quickened from the stress that clung to him.

"Hospital." Aliana sobbed.

"I'll meet you there." Before he ended the call he added, "Stay by her side."

The device went dark.

"Be by her side just in case I don't get the chance to be..."

AZ was out near one of the petals of his weapon, the clear moonlight made his white hair glow like a halo. He turned his pale eyes towards the sight of Xerosic stumbling out of his cabin with a large duffle bag hanging off one shoulder. It wasn't until Xerosic was sitting in a parked vehicle that hadn't been driven all winter that AZ chose to approach him.

" Stück Scheiße!" He cursed when the car refused to turn over, "Of all times to be a piece of shit!"

"You're leaving." AZ didn't phrase it like a question, he was simply sharing his observation.

Xerosic took a couple calming breaths before he turned to face the giant from the open drivers window. He could tell that AZ was looking at the large duffle bag questionably.

"It's the device, just in case." He said between gritted teeth, "Mable, she is hurt. I need to go to her."

AZ didn't say anything further, he just reached his hand through the window and grabbed the key. After a couple attempts at getting the car to start the engine finally turned over and properly hummed to life. He then stepped back so he wasn't in the way of the connecting road.

"Thank you." Xerosic said meekly.

" Sich vorsehen." AZ said before he walked back over to the large base of his weapon.

Xerosic was stunned for a second before he drove off, "Be careful." He thought. That's what AZ just told him. What shocked him is that he told him this in his native tongue. He thought that once the weapon wiped out most of the population he would have been the last one that spoke it. Once he knew Mable was safe he would mention those thoughts to AZ. Not now though, not with Mable's condition being so unclear.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was strange to be so welcomed by the other scientists. Both Celosia and Aliana greeted him when he entered the sparsely populated waiting room. He noticed that Bryony was nowhere in sight.  

She was busy interrogating Mable's attacker in the lab's holding cell he learned. Once he got the whole story he felt a burning rage grow inside him. Of all the people in the world he believed Mable was one of the most innocent. She didn't deserve this.

All they could do was wait to hear if she pulled through. With her being in surgery they couldn't go see her. The longer Xerosic sat in the hospital, the more thankful he was of Lysandre's choice of wall color. He could work for days and weeks in the labs with little issue, but sitting in the hospital with the cold white walls only made him uneasy. He was now glad that he chose to give up studying medicine. Though if he had continued he could be in the operating room with Mable making sure she was ok.    

Hours ticked by with no news. Xerosic did his best to occupy himself by thumbing through old magazines. He didn't move when Aliana's head nestled onto his shoulder, Celosia was curled up next to her.

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon before a nurse came out into the waiting room. He carefully shook Xerosic's shoulder to stir him. He perked his head up suddenly and snorted in a sharp breath at the touch, he had no idea when he fell asleep. The magazine he was reading earlier was face down on the floor.

"How is she?" He asked, he felt the stress rising in his chest again.

"The surgery went well, but she isn't awake."He offered Xerosic a kind smile, "Just give it a bit for the anesthesia to wear off.

"So she is alive?" It was more of a rhetorical question, but the nurse answered anyway.

"She is alive, we expect a full recovery. She is very lucky." With that last statement the nurse squeezed his shoulder returned to his post.

Xerosic gently woke Aliana and Celosia to share with them the good news.

"Oh thank goodness!" Aliana's muffled voice said while she pressed her face into his chest. Xerosic's foot struck against his duffle bag, this caused a sudden thought to hit him.

"Aliana? After we see Mable, we should go see the man who attacked her."

There was a dark glint in his eye when he said this. Aliana wanted to question, but she figured all would be revealed. She nodded her head and agreed to join him.  

It was another hour before they were allowed into the room to see her. Xerosic hung back by the door and allowed Celosia and Aliana to move in first. Mable's face was horribly swollen and despite the pain she must have felt she still managed a smile. He could hear her trying to hush Aliana's crying. Her shaky bandaged hand rose up to wipe a few tears that tried to travel down her chin. Celosia brought out her holocaster and Bryony's hologram lit up.

"Yikes! Where is the pretty Mable I remember?" Bryony joked.

Mable let out a pained laugh and then promptly pressed a button near her to get some more pain medication flowing into her IV.

Xerosic just waited and watched, he didn't want to admit that he was a bit scared of facing her. It was Aliana who finally collected him, "Her medicine makes her tired Xerosic, this is your chance before she goes back to sleep." She paused a moment and motioned over to Celosia.

"We'll give you some privacy." She gave him a pat on the back for courage and exited with Celosia out into the hall.

He didn't know why he was acting so afraid, but he felt terrified. Slowly he approached her bedside. Her least swollen eye met his and he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Hey."

"Hey." She Chatoted back.

Cautiously he reached out for her hand, she didn't resist and even squeezed his back.

"I'm still mad at you." She finally said.

Xerosic's face couldn't help but light up, "Good."  

They stayed like that for awhile sharing few words. It seemed that most of what they wanted to share was able to be said through the gentle touching of their fingertips. Before Mable's eyes grew too heavy he promised her that he would be back to see her soon. Her eyes fell shut, but before she was asleep she said one word to him.

"Good."

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The slight sound of metal on metal could be heard from the heavy duffle bag that Xerosic had slung across his back. He was marching at a quick clip down to the bowels of the lab. Aliana was following closely behind. She was still unclear as to why Xerosic wanted to face the man who attacked Mable. She couldn't say she blamed him though, she wanted to say a few choice words as well. Actually, she really didn't have things she wanted to say, she could think of a few things that she wanted to do instead. The way Xerosic's whole body kept tensing and relaxing, made it clear that he didn't have words he wanted to say either.

Bryony was still standing outside the holding cell when the two arrived. She appeared a bit frustrated and when she noticed their arrival she made it clear as to why.

"He was one of the first to join my team, if not the very first!"

It was clear that Bryony felt completely blindsided by the entire event.

"He even assisted with taking evidence photos on multiple cases. Arceus, I'm so stupid!"

Aliana tried to reassure Bryony and tell her that there was no way that she could have known. Xerosic walked past the two woman and straight to the front of the cell.

"Hey, turn around." He hissed.

The man whose name he learned was Ubel from Bryony, refused to acknowledge him.

" Drecksau!" Xerosic screamed, "If you want your freedom turn around and pay attention, otherwise we'll leave and let you starve down here!"

This caused a response from the man and he finally turned around to face the raging scientist. Xerosic felt a rush of pride when he got a good look at the man's face. Nice clear scratch marks ran across the left side of his cheek, one of the deeper marks was still oozing from his constant picking.

"That's right, you're going to help me and my assistant with an experiment in my lab, then you can be free from here."

Bryony couldn't believe what she was hearing. Aliana gave her a reassuring look so she chose to trust where Xerosic was going with his strange plan. After ordering her prisoner to stand against the wall, Bryony securely cuffed him and led him out of the cell.

All three of the scientists held onto Ubel while they traveled to Xerosic's lab. Once they arrived, Xerosic was amused that very little had changed in his layout. It was still quite the cluttered mess.

Bryony and Aliana sat Ubel down on one of the chairs in the lab, he only felt the need to protest his treatment when he saw Xerosic dig out some rope from one of the many boxes.

"What type of insane experiment is this!?"

Xerosic chuckled while he made sure to tie secure knots. He applied perhaps a little too much pressure when he tightened the remaining rope around his ankles.

"Be a good sport, this will be over soon then you are free to leave." There was a wickedness that coated every syllable of his speech.

"So just a single experiment, then I'm free..."

Xerosic tried not to laugh at the shakiness in the man's voice, what a coward he had trapped. Once he dropped his duffle bag and revealed its contents, Aliana understood what was about to occur. Bryony was silent at the sight, once she watched Xerosic strap on the device and bring it to life she excused herself out to the hall. She pulled the door firmly shut behind her when she left, she would rather stand guard than watch what was going to take place.

Ubel shifted in his restraints, "This is going to hurt! What are you doing to me!?"

Xerosic pointed at some shelves near his sink, Aliana came back with two pairs of protective goggles. They slipped them on and both turned their full attention to their lab Rattata.

"Shouldn't I get a pair of goggles too?"

Both Xerosic and Aliana mouthed the word "no" and the gauntlet was aimed at Ubel's chest.

Out in the hall Bryony heard the sudden yell of someone in intense pain followed by silence. Eventually, the door to the lab opened and the two scientists emerged. Xerosic was still wearing the device, its buzzing ends moved around like they were seeking prey. This made Bryony a bit uneasy so she gave him a wide berth. He continued past with purpose and it became clear he had somewhere else he wanted to be.

Aliana pushed the goggles up on top of her head.

"I'm afraid you can't interrogate your prisoner anymore."

Bryony choked out an uncomfortable laugh, "You know I think I'm ok with that."

 

* * *

 

Doctor Duval was late.

Lysandre made it very clear that he was displeased when the doors to the elevator opened. He tried, he really tried to ignore it. He thought that the day off would have given him more patience to deal, but a Doctor doesn't really get a day off. He was enjoying being close with his wife when the call came in. The patient was serious, far too serious for his staff to handle themselves. After hours in surgery he finally crashed on the couch in one of the staff lounges and promptly slept through his alarm.

Speaking of alarms, the alarm for the Professor's IV was sounding. Instead of ripping the plug out of the wall like he really wanted to, he replaced the bag with one he brought from the hospital and the alarm silenced.

He could tell that the rest of the Professor's care had already been taken care of that morning.

"This won't last." Lysandre spat while he poked a long finger at the IV bag, "You forgot to bring more!"

Lysandre looked like he had a horrible night as well, surely finding out that someone got viciously attacked in your "perfect society" would have that effect. Usually this type of thinking was enough to keep Duval from wanting to lose his patience. Today was not the day he could continue to exercise this skill.

"I can't bring more!" He shouted, "Haven't you been listening to me! I'm running out of supplies. The people from neighboring regions that used to refresh our supplies are all dead!"

Duval pointed an accusing finger at Lysandre with his last statement and then pointed to the still Professor, "This needs to end! I refuse to continue to use supplies for a man that is not going to get better! I'm sick of being held captive here when my staff needs me! When my family needs me!"

He continued to yell before Lysandre could interrupt, "You are in denial! He is dying, just put him out of his damn misery!"

"You don't understand-" Lysandre tried to say, but was cut off my the Doctor's continued rant.

"No, YOU don't understand! I'm done! I quit!"

Through seething teeth and heavy steps Doctor Duval stomped back to the elevator and hit the call button. Even with Lysandre now, surprisingly, trying to beg him to return he refused to even look the Director in the eye. He was done, there was nothing that could be said to change that now.

His dramatic exit was only stalled slightly by the sight of Xerosic waiting for the elevator. He looked puzzled at the device the man was wearing, but didn't care enough to question it.

"Here!" He said shortly, pressing the key-card into Xerosic's free hand, "He is your problem now!"

When Lysandre heard the sound of the doors he expected it to be Doctor Duval returning with a change of heart, not Xerosic. Certainly not Xerosic with his machine attached to him.

"Are you here to kill me Xerosic?" Lysandre said challengingly.

Xerosic rolled his eyes, not that his boss could see through his goggles, "As much as I may have fantasized about that for the last few months, no. Don't be so dramatic."

The top scientist strolled across the fine polished floor and thick soft rugs before he was standing face to face with his leader. He strained his neck to make eye contact, "If all goes well, I'm here to prove my theory about your boyfriend Professor correct, and by association help you."

Lysandre moved and allowed Xerosic to approach the Professor's bed. He tried not to act too surprised at the Professor's emaciated condition. It wasn't all that surprising given the amount of time that passed, but it was still shocking to witness.

"Let's remove the blankets, I want to make sure I hit as much of him as possible." Xerosic really wished that of all times, now was the time that his voice could fake confidence. Usually, he at least had an experiment work in the small scale. He didn't even have that this time, but he couldn't waste what he just harvested, it was now or never.

Out of his duffle bag he pulled out Lysandre's visor. He wordlessly handed it over. Lysandre didn't even hesitate in putting it on. After a few calming breaths he pointed the gauntlet clad arm at a central point on the Professor, the buzzing ends tamed themselves and hovered where the gauntlet pointed. The same humming sound that Xerosic heard before began and it soon became louder and louder.

Lysandre noticed that Xerosic was bracing himself, the device was so loud now that he couldn't even hear Xerosic reciting a countdown.

_"Four."_

_"Three."_

_"Two."_

_"One."_

Even with the protective visor Lysandre felt the need to shield his eyes from the invading light. Right as the light faded there was the distinct smell of charred electronics. To Lysandre's relief it was coming from the device, not from the Professor or his monitors.

"That's all she could take." Xerosic said while he coughed on smoke. He quickly removed the device and let the charred ends fall to his feet.

"The whole thing's fried."

Xerosic noticed that Lysandre wasn't speaking and looked up to find him sitting by the Professor's bed. He was brushing a few long curls out of his face and watching it closely for any changes.

"It... it didn't work did it?"

Lysandre's voice was so drawn out. It was filled with sorrow and pain, so much that Xerosic couldn't think of any comfort that could possibly help.

"I guess not." He replied quietly, "I'm sorry, Lysandre. I tried."

"You did, thank you. I... I want to be alone for now."

Xerosic gathered the, now useless, device and threw the duffle bag back onto his shoulder. He pressed the button for the elevator and took one last look over to the Director before the doors closed.

 Lysandre simply sat still and defeated at the foot of the Professor's bed. He looked over at the many beeping monitors and rose to the wall of plugs, one by one he pulled each one out and for the first time the monitors became silent.

~~~~~~~~~~  

 

Professor Sycamore repeated the same thing. He would wander the many empty streets and alleyways only to find himself exactly where he started.

At the front lawn of his lab.

Even when he tried to take a different path. Even if he made absolutely sure that there was no possible way that the end of the street would lead there, it always did.

He couldn't say he was growing tired, not physically anyway, but he was beginning to feel his mind fray. It was the same thing every day, but to be fair the sky never changed. It stayed the same shade of dappled grey.  

He had no way of telling how much time passed. Even his watch did little to aid him. At some times it seemed to be frozen, at others it moved forward at random intervals, sometimes backwards.

Only the occasional voices and images gave him any sort of comfort. Sometimes he would chase them like mirages, never actually catching up to them. A source of a voice was never found and no one answered him when he called out.

Most of the time he just stood at the front lawn of his lab and stared at the choppy vision of the Prism Tower off in the distance. He once tried to see if he could reach it, but his legs simply refused to carry him there, he just ended up back at his lab like the many times before.

A deep longing came to him as he looked out at the tower and as though something had him tethered his legs began to move on the path towards it. He didn't try to fight the pull he felt to the tower, he just allowed numb legs to carry him thoughtlessly.

The closer he traveled to the base of the tower, the crisper and clearer the vision became. Soon he could practically reach out and touch the front doors leading inside, so he did.

Solid, they felt real.

He entered the vast clear lobby and allowed his legs to propel himself to the central elevator. No button was pressed, no doors were opened to him. He just simply rose through it and exited into a well decorated room.

Waxed floors, fine carpets, beautiful light fixtures. A large king sized bed with deep rich blankets, all perfectly pressed. A chaise lounge overlooking one of the many tall windows, each lined with long curtains that were all currently shut.

His legs continued to move him through that space until he came across another bed, this one was occupied.

It was strange staring at his own still face, he could barely recognize it as his own. A large, familiar hand moved over to caress it.

"Lysandre." He whispered.

Suddenly he felt weary and the bed his body was lying in looked so comfortable.

"Maybe I'll just rest for a bit, just for a bit. I'm so tired."

He watched shadowy vision of Lysandre bend over and give his body's face a kiss on the forehead. He then retreated to the nearby chair and held his hand while he covered his face with the free one, he was trying to choke back tears.

Augustine's limbs became stiff and heavy as he sat on the edge of the bed. He stifled the feeling of a yawn and laid back, allowing his head to take up the same pillow as his body. Before he closed his heavy eyes he thought he heard a familiar voice.

_"Don't leave Augustine..."_

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lysandre allowed the tears to run, he knew that it was a possibility that Augustine wouldn't wake up. He just didn't want to have to make the choice to let him go.

He had to make that choice now, he loved him too much to let him suffer. He gave his hand one last squeeze and was shocked to find that Augustine weakly squeezed it back.

"Augustine!" Lysandre called out.

To his continued amazement his eyes flickered open at his name's mention. He appeared to be trying to speak but was unable with his breathing tube still down his throat.

"H..hold on! I'll help you with that, don't move..." Lysandre couldn't stop the shaking, if he was having one of his horrible dreams he secretly hoped he wouldn't wake up.

As carefully as he could be worked to remove the breathing tube. It went smoothly other than a slight coughing fit that Augustine had when he was done.

"Are you alright? C... can you speak?"

Augustine tried to reach out to him, but his arm fell short. Lysandre caught it and pressed kisses on his hand. He brought the hand up to the side of his face. At Augustine's light movements and touches with his fingers he thought he could just simply die of happiness.

Of course once the Professor spoke, even though the voice was raspy, his heart truly felt complete.

"Bonjour mon amour."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, now for my music list for this chapter. (I was on an emotion trip for this one and I was writing it -_-;)
> 
> Starset-Let it Die
> 
> Of Monsters and Men- Silhouettes
> 
> Adam Lambert-Ghost Town
> 
> Thirty Seconds to Mars-Hurricane


	9. Flowers and Weeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the beginning of the second story arc. Chasing Spring 1 and 2 concluded the first arc. This will be the final arc in the story and I estimate (maybe) three more chapters will follow.

No nightmares would plague him now. Not while he was awake and refusing to sleep. It wasn't like the occasional insomnia that gripped him many nights before. Those nights that left him staring at a dark ceiling, listening to the constant beeping that never ceased from across the long room.

He refused to let sleep take him because he knew it would fail. It would fail and it was the best feeling in the world.

His Augustine was awake.

After the sweet words left his parched lips, Lysandre carefully scooped him up into his arms. He took great care in not pulling out the tubes that were still attached to him. He just wanted to feel him and be able to touch him without the fear of him breaking. Past touches were met with fear that his skin would slough off like the thinnest tissue paper, that his limbs were made of fine glass crystal. 

_"Slow, slow, sweet."_

With assistance, Augustine's arms were draped around his neck, he leaned into Lysandre's chest and seemed content. Each rise and fall from Augustine's breaths and vibrations from mumbled satisfying words brought further joy.  Every movement that Lysandre made with him was slow and carefully crafted, his thin limbs seemed all the more so against his body.

Augustine reminded him of a small Pidove that fell from its nest, being cradled in his palms to  keep him safe from the elements. He was like his own personal song bird that could finally sing, struggled notes at first and then fuller, richer melodies. He would keep his little song bird safe. Now that he returned to him, he would ensure it stayed that way.

Not wanting to pull away from the dainty Professor just yet he reached for his holocaster without stirring him too severely. The Doctor was called first. He was shocked, but didn't question the apparent miracle that had took place. His first wish was to have the Professor checked into the hospital, Lysandre reluctantly agreed. He had hoped to keep Augustine in his chambers, but knew it was best to have him properly checked out.

 _"Slow, slow, I have plenty of time."_  

His face nestled into knotted long curls, his grin was almost too much for him to take. All of it was almost too much to take. He bounced savagely between overwhelming bliss to the sick feeling of how he nearly gave up on Augustine.

He did his best to protect his happiness, it wasn't too hard once he saw a smile traced on Augustine's lips. That didn't stop the onslaught of negative thoughts to regroup and poise for another attack.

_"He doesn't know what you've done yet, how can he really?"_

_"No, not this, not now!"_

_"He'll hate you when you tell him."_

_"That isn't how he is, he doesn't hate anything!"_

_"They were his pupils... how do you think he'll take the news..."_

Lysandre pressed his face further into the crown of Augustine's head. He willed the thoughts away and turned his focus back to the man on his lap.

Those eyes, those eyes never changed. Grey, but certainly not cold. Sometimes, he could almost swear they would glimmer with a hint of blue. That is how they appeared to him now. The Professor's eyes were like polished glass and they reflected his own pale blue back at him. It gave the illusion that their spirits were merged into one being. Strangely, that gave Lysandre the comfort he needed to squash out the remaining negative thoughts.

"When the Doctor arrives we are going to move you to the hospital Augustine."

Augustine nodded weakly with understanding and nuzzled into the front of his shirt. He spoke again in a muted tone, so much so that Lysandre was sure he didn't quite catch it right.

"Mon ami, your Pyroar won't quit staring at us."

Lysandre peered down at Augustine questionably. Alas, he looked far too comfortable to disturb at the moment. Obviously, Lysandre misheard him.

 

* * *

 

**(One week later.)**

More restless nights followed until the sun rose up and passed its rays through red curtains. The room was awash with a crimson glow. Hardly a finger wide gap allowed a single line of light to cut through the room. It traveled up and over furnishings before it settled on the massive four-poster bed that held its owner.

 _"Wake up Lysandre."_ The sun practically said as the beam hit his eyelids with amazing accuracy. They flickered and a weary hand was brought up to shield sun sensitive eyes. A tired stifled yawn followed and heavy feet hit a soft carpet at the edge of the bed.

Lysandre stretched, popping a few joints in needed places before springing to his feet. It would be hard to tell that the man had a hard time sleeping. He seemed excited as a young schoolboy and why shouldn't he be?

Augustine was scheduled to be released from the hospital.

Clothes were thrown out on his unmade bed, which was out of character for him. Normally his bed was made right as he awoke and clothing was never handled haphazardly. Today he didn't care and it was wonderful.

Vibrant garments were finally chosen. A, no surprise, red shirt was selected that had soft velveteen roses throughout. A pair of black slacks with thin red stitching at the inseam was paired with it. He couldn't help but chuckle at a memory when he slipped them on.

He had taken the Professor out for lunch at his cafe. He noticed on multiple occasions between sips of perfect coffee that Augustine's eyes kept falling to his, well frankly his groin. Apparently, he was in a rare playful mood so he made the point to sit with his legs rather far apart. Once they were free from the cafe and finally alone, Augustine cried out in embarrassment and accused him of evil scheming ways. Of course Lysandre denied anything of the sort. He certainly wasn't the scheming type after all. Coyness aside, it was finally revealed that the stitching at his inseam was rather distracting and Lysandre made a note of it.

With hair groomed to perfect points and beard trimmed in a neat fashion, he took a good look at himself in the full length mirror near his bedside. He fiddled with the top few buttons of his top before he finally settled on leaving them open. Normally, the bit of curling chest hair being visible would bother him, but today he allowed it. He admired how long his neck appeared with the pale flesh unhindered by cloth.

He gathered up a belt for himself and his mind wandered as he continued to admire his appearance. Would Augustine stare at the patch of exposed skin? He was still weak, but with help he could hold him up and allow his fingers to trace against his neck. He would be able to feel his quickening pulse. Arceus help him if he felt it with his tongue.

_"What is wrong with me?"_

Lysandre had to scold himself for such thoughts. He reminded himself that it was alright to feel desire, but he needed to be slow. He waited this long for Augustine, he could wait a bit longer for him to gain his strength again.

Before he traveled down the elevator to walk out and greet the warm, pleasant weather, he made the choice to roll up this sleeves. It was funny how such a simple act could make his whole look seem far more casual.

As he walked he greeted passing citizens, shook a few hands, and even congratulated a young couple that were taking a stroll with their three month old babe. His mood was high, his spirits were also and it appeared to spread to his followers.

Taking the route that passed by his cafe, he came across Xerosic who was just exiting. He knew that they were heading to the same location so they were soon walking side by side. Lysandre noticed that Xerosic was dressed well. He opted for a soft blue button up with a light sports jacket layered on top. His eyes, that were normally covered by some pair of goggles, were able to be seen.

_"Hmm, pale green, I never would have guessed."_

It was also amusing to note that his wild hairstyle was far more tamed than usual. It was brushed back neatly and tied back to keep the long ends from catching a breeze.

"You shaved." Lysandre couldn't help but say.

Xerosic chuckled lightly and rubbed his bare chin, "You haven't." He joked back.

 

It was safe to say that the relationship between himself and his top scientist was fairly well patched. After the Professor's move to the hospital, Lysandre made the point to head down to the labs. When he found Xerosic he was poking at the charred electronics of the machine.

After burning himself with his soldering tool he looked up at Lysandre who looked like he just ran a marathon, a grueling marathon while tripping on some Lumiose nightlife party drug.

Seriously what was with the grin, He thought before he finally spoke to him, "Did you run here?"

Lysandre panted for a moment before he finally approached Xerosic with the wonderful news, "It worked! By Arceus it actually worked!"

Xerosic yelped as he was dragged off his feet and twirled around the lab.

"You are on drugs aren't you!" He wheezed when he was finally allowed to stand on his own two feet again.

"Wait, I was right?" He looked up to Lysandre for conformation who nodded, "I was right! It worked!"

 

The two men continued to walk together. Xerosic would occasionally fiddle with his jacket and check to see if his hair was in order.

"You look fine." Lysandre offered.

"I know." Xerosic said back a bit cheekily, "Maybe I should have brought flowers..."

What a hopeless romantic his scientist had become, not that he would say it to him. Oh no, he would still deny it. Him and Mable could be settled down with three children and he would never admit to all the fussing that he did because of her. Lysandre wasn't sure if they were truly an item as it were, but he figured it wouldn't be long.

What was he being reduced to? Never before would he have bat an eye at the love lives of others, he was becoming a softy it seemed. No, it was just the nature of spring. That and the fact that he wouldn't be sharing his large chambers alone any longer. The week had been terribly long, this day couldn't have arrived soon enough.

The hospital seemed brighter than usual, more lively. Even Xerosic couldn't deny that it held a much different feeling than normal. The same nurse that spoke to Xerosic before, greeted them as they strode past the nursing station.

"Mable was asking about you." He said with a wink.

Xerosic cleared his throat and excused himself. Lysandre watched with amusement as he peered slowly into the nearby room and finally disappeared behind closed doors. His ghost white skin made it plain as day that some color formed on his ears.

Now that he didn't have the company of his top scientist he felt a wave of nervousness assault his gut. None of the hospital staff around him would be able to tell, he was making absolutely certain that his nervousness would not be detected.

He stood dumbly, much like he did in front of the Professor's lab. This time however, he knew that Augustine would be there. Alive and well, able to share his thoughts and feelings. Offer his love, praise, and criticism.

_"None of that now."_

A unsettling thought attempted to overtake, he pushed it back into his stomach to fester. Everything was going to be fine, Augustine would be coming home with him, he would get the care plan from the Doctor, they would keep up on appointments, and they would be happy.

Laughter broke him out of his trance from a nearby room. A group of three all surrounded a cheerful looking Augustine while he was being pushed out to the hall by one of the nurses in a wheelchair. He was now wearing a new set of clothing that Lysandre had sent to the hospital for him upon his dismissal. Seeing him all smiles, finally out of a hospital gown made the reality that he was going to be leaving with him complete.

His hair looked like it had been cut back up to his usual length. Not too short, he liked to keep a bit of fringe. His stubble was at its wild neatness, if that made any sort of sense. He was always one that could look strangely polished despite his untamable hair.

"I'd get up to thank you all properly, but I'm afraid my legs are still about as useful as my doctorate!"

Again the surrounding staff all shared in laughter, "Oh Pro... Augustine, really it has been a pleasure." One of the nurses chirped.

"We'll see you for your physical therapy, don't think you are done with us yet!" Another added.

Lysandre was still keeping his distance. He had to admit that he was a bit disturbed by the nature of Augustine's joking. Between the two of them no words were shared about the new reality of the world. He wasn't going to be able to hide it, that was just foolish to think. Even with that, he still guiltily hoped that he wasn't aware yet of the truth. That would be a hope that Augustine was an idiot and he certainly wasn't. He knew and Lysandre had no idea when he would talk to him about it. All the time that passed still didn't help him find the right words.

Augustine's statement was true though, his doctorate was rather useless now. Lysandre couldn't shake how much he was dreading the inevitable conversation. Not to mention he had no idea what to tell him if he asked about the children. Some things he decided, would be better to fabricate to keep him safe. Augustine didn't need to know the true nature of their fates.

"Good morning, Director." Came the familiar voice of Doctor Duval. He appeared to be in fine spirits that morning. Of course freedom to work with his staff and time to see family does that to a man.

Both men silently made it clear that any ills that happened while the Doctor was under his employment were best to be forgotten. Lysandre was fine with leaving it as such.

"He will need to come to physical therapy once a week for now, then we'll go for twice a week if he can handle it."

Lysandre nodded and listened, his gaze was still on Augustine talking and joking with the staff around him.

"He has a list of exercises he should complete at home, I've also gone over these with him." Duval stopped and pondered, "Oh, and he should stay on soft foods for now. I have a list of what constitutes soft foods in case you're unsure. That should be about it." Suddenly something else that the Doctor forgot struck him, "Also no sex for a while..."

Lysandre nearly choked on air with how forward the statement was, "I... I wasn't even thinking of such things." He lied.

"No matter." Duval continued, "I thought that it should be mentioned."

He handed over a stapled copy of the care plan that Lysandre carefully folded and pocketed.

"Well he is all cleared to go, you just have to walk over and collect him."                                     

Doctor Duval left him after that. He had other patients to see. First one being Mable it seemed. He knocked out of courtesy on the door before entering. This left Lysandre standing stiffly as though his feet were in cement. The nursing staff left Augustine's side at this point and the two men were left staring at each other from across the hall. Truthfully, the distance between them wasn't that far, but at that moment it felt so vast.

Finally small steps were made, they became more confident once he saw Augustine's shaky arms maneuver the wheels of the chair to close the gap. Once they were close enough, Lysandre dropped down so he was at an even level with the other man.

"How do you feel?" He uttered automatically.

Augustine watched him blankly and appeared to be scrutinizing his appearance, which in turn made Lysandre grow nervous.

_"This is it, he is going to tell me that he hates me. That I'm a monster."_

He counted ten steady rise and falls of Augustine's chest before this voice graced his ears.

"Lysandre, your body is a sin. I swear you always see me at my worse and I have yet to see you with a single hair out of place."

Lysandre blinked with shock, his mouth hung slightly ajar at the observation. He finally collected himself and offered a reply, "Trust me Augustine, you do not wish to see me at my worse. It is not a beautiful sight to behold."

Augustine stared at him with an eyebrow cocked in an amused fashion, he leaned a bit languished on his thin arm.

"Besides, you do not look horrible, "He continued to add, "You are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."

Augustine guffawed, dropping his bony hands down onto his lap, "Thank you, you lie, but thank you!" He pulled at his clothing, showing how loosely it fit his body.

"You always told me that if I wasn't careful I would get horribly skinny. Once I can stomach it I want a huge cake covered with pecha berries."

Lysandre made sure Augustine's feet were up on the footrests before he began to push him down the hall, "I believe I will be able to make that happen for you."

 

* * *

 

Lysandre wanted nothing more than to spirit Augustine back up into the tower, but at his request they wandered the Northern half of the city. Augustine tried to get them to travel to the Southern end, but Lysandre refused.

"I'm sorry, there is no power."

"Why is that?"

"I ordered it to be that way."

Augustine didn't ask further questions on the matter, he just seemed to either accept it or didn't want to fight. Lysandre knew all too well what it was that Augustine wanted to see, he wanted to go to his lab.

The lab hadn't been entered since after the cleanup. Lysandre was sure it was a mess. With no power running to it the rooms would be dark, the lift would be unusable, and surely the garden in the back was wild and unkempt.

They didn't share many words after that, Lysandre would offer the option to go to the tower and Augustine would respectfully refuse. Another reason he wished that they would head back to the tower was the many watching eyes around them. He couldn't blame them, the Professor was practically a celebrity before. Everyone knew who he was, or at the very least heard his name or some mention of his research. Now out of the blue he was out on the streets. Lysandre could practically hear the whispers now.

_"Where did he come from?"_

_"Was he ill?"_

_"Why is he here?"_

_"I thought he was dead?"_

He pushed his paranoia aside and reminded himself that he was the leader. His followers didn't need answers to satisfy their gossip unless he allowed it. He could act as he wished when he really thought about it. Who would question him? With these thoughts buzzing through his skull he leaned down to Augustine's level and in the view of many that had curious eyes turned their way, he gave the Professor the kiss he wanted to give him all week.

Augustine was taken a bit off guard by the action, but did not retreat from it. Lysandre felt a rush like he'd never felt before. Kissing Augustine like that wouldn't have been something he'd ever do before. Not with such a multitude of witnesses. Such exchanges were done behind closed doors away from the tabloid writing scum that wanted nothing more than a mud smeared story to further their careers.

Not that Lysandre didn't have full control over the media at that time with Malva in his corner. Even then, he never confirmed the relationship with anyone he worked with. Xerosic was the only one that figured it out, though he was sure the rest of the scientists knew as well. Of course Malva certainly knew now as she walked up to the two of them. She knew before from her deal with Xerosic, but that was her own little victory she kept to herself. She caught them after the passionate show they performed and before Lysandre moved away from the canal to head into the Centrico Plaza in another attempt to head home to the Prism Tower.

"Good afternoon Lysandre..." She droned and then quickly turned her gaze to the Professor and extended her hand down to him, "Good afternoon to you as well Professor."

To everyone's surprise Augustine took her hand and placed a quick kiss on it and offered her a charming smile, "Elite Four, Malva. Don't you look absolutely gorgeous."

Lysandre knew there was no possible way of fleeing now. Not while Augustine and Malva were in conversation. One was free in dishing out countless compliments, the other loved nothing more than receiving said compliments. It was a recipe for disaster, or at least a recipe for a never ending conversation.

Of all people it had to be Malva, anyone else would have been fine. Of course it had to be her. In between sentences she made sure to catch Lysandre's eye, he recognized the look she was giving him. It was the look of "I know your secret now." Not much of a secret now to be fair, at this point he was sure the word spread throughout the entire population within record time.

It hardly mattered, it felt nice to be so open. No more rushing off to quiet corners. No more telling people during interviews that the Professor was just a "good friend." No more moments of wishing Augustine would pay attention how thick he laid on the praise of him.

_"At least talk about others that way instead of making it so obvious!"_

Once he thought about it, Malva was hardly going to be a bother to him. Besides, it appeared Augustine was her weakness. It's horribly hard to try to push buttons when someone won't quit gushing about you. It was funny to witness in fact, Augustine was actually making her flustered.

In a clear attempt to gain control of the situation she quickly offered a suggestion, "I'm hungry and it would be rude not to invite you both out for lunch with me."

"That sounds lovely ma chère, I'm famished!"

Lysandre didn't even get the chance to interject, he sighed and moved the wheelchair so they could follow Malva. It worked out in his favor actually, he had business he'd been meaning to discuss with her anyway.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Despite his best attempts at not getting dragged out to lunch, Lysandre was now sitting at the finest table that Restaurant Le Wow offered. One of the staff that was clearing a table nearly dropped everything at their arrival. No menus were offered, this wasn't odd the way things were now. What got served was simply based on what was available that day. The only worry that Lysandre had was that he hoped whatever got brought out would be fine for Augustine to consume. All he needed was for him to get sick and have to return to the hospital so soon after leaving. While he thought of it he pulled out the list that was still in his pocket and scanned through it.

"I may be in need of a booster seat, I'm sure my rear would fit one just fine."

Malva covered her red lips to keep from laughing too forcibly at how quickly Lysandre darted his eyes towards the Professor.

"You don't need a booster seat, I will help you into a chair."

Malva had to admit that the way Lysandre handled the Professor with utmost care was sweet, sickly so, but sweet. Soon he was in his own chair and his wheelchair rolled against the wall so it was out of the way. It was just in time too, a pair of servers presented a perfectly stacked spring salad drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with course black pepper. Malva nodded once the wine selection was shown to her, a bottle of pinot grigio.

Three glasses were filled. Lysandre casually moved Augustine's glass out of reach, he was certain that wine was not something he should be consuming quite yet. Especially not with his tendency to over indulge. Before the servers excused themselves he asked for them to bring out some water.

The salad was tender and refreshing, there was the slightest citrus taste brought on by some lemongrass mixed in. Lysandre almost felt guilty that he was keeping the wine from Augustine, it was paired wonderfully. Of course one does not simply keep wine away from Augustine Sycamore, at least not for very long. While Lysandre was distracted by the young server who appeared unbelievably nervous while they brought out the water, he failed to notice Malva handing her glass over for Augustine to take a sip. By the time he noticed it was too late.

"Malva!" He hissed.

Malva waved her hands at him dismissingly, "Oh calm yourself, we're all getting along so swimmingly. A little sip won't kill him."

Augustine looked over at Lysandre with false innocence and took a couple bites of his salad, "I'll be good mon feu chat, I just wanted a taste."

Malva almost lost it once she heard the lovely pet name that the Professor gave her boss, "Mon feu chat... that fits you well."

Even though Lysandre seemed to be the butt of every joke at the table, he couldn't say he wasn't having a good time. He even took part in a few shared laughs. The wine was finished, including the second glass that Lysandre swiped away from Augustine and claimed for himself. He felt warm, content, happy, and quite ready for the main course.

He didn't have to wait much longer. The empty plates were cleared and replaced with what was a vegetarian shepherd's pie. New wine glasses were filled with pinot noir to pair with the meal and Lysandre yet again swiped Augustine's glass away from him.

The majority of the dish was made with a mix of sweet and yellow potatoes topped with seasoned breadcrumbs. He was sure that starchy foods were something that Augustine had to avoid, but now into his third glass of wine he thought that he could let it slide. He wouldn't let it slide on the wine however, Augustine's glass was already claimed as his.

The potatoes were obviously from a can, but the flavor from the small pearl onions, sun-dried tomatoes, and garlic made up for it. It was still delicious. Not to mention the flavor of the mushrooms was exquisite, though he came to expect no less from the experienced chefs that joined Team Flare.  

The meal was topped off with a berry sorbet made from rawst berries and garnished with young mint sprigs. It was tart with only a slight hint of sweetness from the simple syrup that was used in its making.

"This is why I always come here for lunch." Malva boasted, "If they can get fresh ingredients they do, they have entire teams that work to harvest the local plant life."

Augustine nodded along while she spoke, he passed another compliment about her knowledge and she shared with him another sip from her wine glass. Actually, Lysandre was certain that at this point Augustine had drank more from her glass than she did. Before she flagged down a server to request a refill Lysandre took the chance to speak with her on some future projects that were in the works.

"Malva, do you recall when that large family requested their move to Camphrier about a month ago?"

"Of course Lysandre, I do listen to news when it travels." She swirled a glass of water in her hand before she finally took a sip. She was waiting patiently for the part of the story that entailed her needing to do some sort of job. That was about the extent of their talks at this point. Lysandre would speak to her, but only to give her a task.

"It just so happens that they used to own much of the surrounding farmland and even tended the vineyard at the Parfum Palace." He paused before reaching his point. The real truth of the matter was that the family didn't technically own any of the land. Everything was owned by the past residents of the palace.

Of course now, the family would be free to tend it without the looming presence of the Parfum Palace Steward. A joke of a man who fancied himself among royal lineage. It was quite the laughable statement when he stood next to Lysandre. No one even tried to challenge his claim of royal ancestry. To the relief of the Steward, Lysandre never pushed to have the Parfum Palace turned over to him. He wasn't going to waste the time and effort on it, especially since the palace was going to be his once his plans came through.

"They have brought a problem to my attention, too much land and too few workers."

"Oh goodness, I hope you aren't expecting me to go out and work the fields?" She was joking, but honestly wouldn't put it past him on a bad day to demand such a thing.

"No, I need you to rally people and get them excited about the project. We'll make a ceremony out of it if we have to. It would be good natured for us to plant the first row of crops."

Malva let out a dramatic sigh, "So you are asking me to work the fields, can you believe him?" She gave Augustine a pleading look, hoping that her offerings of wine would have him in her corner. 

Augustine had been far too quiet for the conversation. Lysandre felt his insides coil again with the fear that he was going to say something about what he thought of the new society. He still didn't and Lysandre calmed himself for the moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm getting tired I think." The usual chuckle in his voice was still there as he continued, "That sounds wonderful. My family use to keep a small garden when I was young, of course I'm not gifted with a green thumb like some. I'm lucky if I don't kill a house plant."

He turned his charm into high gear, "I'm sure lots of young men would love to see you out in the sunlight, I bet they would compete to work extra hard for your attention."

In the end Malva enthusiastically agreed. Lysandre made sure to keep it in mind to have Augustine around for all his future dealings with her. It made everything far more productive even if he had to deal with sideways remarks here and there.

They parted ways outside the restaurant. Malva never did make any comment about Lysandre and the Professor's relationship. It was probably no fun now that it was too easy. So in the end it was just a pleasant encounter.

Augustine wasn't lying during the meal when he said that he was tired. He was practically nodding off in the chair while they traveled, finally, to the Prism Tower. Once through the doors however, he perked up. His eyes moved about rapidly and it looked like he was trying to let all the changes sink in at once.

Lysandre was sure that he would say something now. Any evidence that the Prism Tower once held a gym was completely removed. Everything was replaced with what could only be described as purely Lysandre's style through and through. The bottom level was decorated sparsely, but it was still obvious that quite a bit of thought went into the design. Augustine exhausted himself of looking around and slumped back lower into his chair and simply waited to be moved forward, he stayed silent.

The elevator dinged and the heavy doors slid open to allow the occupants out into the private chambers. It was just as Lysandre had left it, perfectly neat aside from the bit of clutter on his bed. He freed Augustine to be allowed to move on his own and finally cleaned up the mess he left earlier that day.

After making the bed he turned back to the Professor who hardly moved from where he was left. He wished more than anything that he could read into his thoughts, the silence was killing him.

"I want to go to bed." Augustine whispered.

The extreme silence in the room made it easy to hear his request. Lysandre approached and assisted in removing his shoes and carefully lifted him from the chair. He turned to walk him to the bed when he was suddenly stopped.

"No, put me down so I can try to walk."

Lysandre bit at his lip as he placed his feet to the floor. It was slow, extremely slow, but with the extra support Augustine struggled to take a few steps. He would stop, take a few breaths, and adjust his hold on Lysandre before continuing. Once they were over half way there he finally buckled. Of course Lysandre was ready and held him with little effort.

"I can carry you now." He suggested.

Augustine agreed and was soon back up in the taller man's arms. He let out a contented sigh once he was placed down in the soft bedding. He only sat up, with some assistance, to have this shirt removed.

It was painful to see the rows of exposed ribs, the protruding spine, and top of his hip bones. That would all get better in time. Lysandre just had to keep telling himself that. Without thinking he brushed his fingertips across his shoulder blades and rubbed tiny circles at the back of his neck. Augustine shivered at the touch, but was soon relaxing at the contact.

His hand patted the space next to him and Lysandre took the invitation to be allowed closer. His shirt was tossed onto the floor by the Professor's. He assisted Augustine with his pants and soon both of their pairs joined the pile. This wasn't for any reason other than for comfort, but Lysandre wouldn't deny that he was enjoying every moment of his skin touching against the other's.

The week with little sleep had finally caught up with him and curling his body around Augustine's made sleep want to take hold all the more so. His eyes were just about shut when Augustine asked his question and reality hit him again.

"Did you get everything you wanted? Was it worth it?"

Lysandre swallowed thickly and thought of how to answer the dreaded questions. His face sunk back into his hair, he was thankful that they were not facing each other. He could only imagine the look on Augustine's face.

He felt the soft coverings of soft rich cotton tighten around his body. Every nerve lit up and he could feel every fiber against his flesh. Lysandre struggled with uncomfortable movements while he tried to force words to form on moving lips.

"Yes." Came his plain response, it wasn't a lie.

Augustine's breath hitched. He moved as if Lysandre's arms were causing him pain, but did not tell him to release his hold. Lysandre did so on his own even though it made him feel ill to do so.

Lysandre spoke again, the words strung together like he was reading them off a handwritten speech, "The world is better this way, it will not be burdened with war and greed. I will make sure my people never feel hunger or thirst. There is finally plenty for-"

His words were cut off before he could finish, "I'm having a hard time seeing it your way."

There was a pause, a small sound that sounded pained. Lysandre tried to move over to see, but Augustine covered his face from his view, "I've lost so many friends Lysandre. All of my staff, my assistants."

His voice cracked ever so slightly, "I'll never be able to tell Dexio and Sina that I've always appreciated how hard they always worked for me. I'll never see Sophie's smiling face, or Cosette enthusiastically running scans and carrying bags of pokémon chow out to the back garden. Diantha will never be able to sneak a visit, even though I knew she was just trying to avoid paparazzi. I can't pop over to the cheap cafe with shameful croissants and bleak coffee to grab a quick lunch..." 

Lysandre could only sit hopelessly and listen, it was the next thing Augustine said that struck him as though he'd been shot through.

"I made the choice to take on such a large group of children for the dex program. I gave them their starters and sent them out to pursue their dreams!"

Augustine sniffed and shoved his face into his pillow, once he surfaced he continued, "Serena and Calem were so competitive, I wish I could have told them that they both had the ability to be champions. Shawna loved her pokémon so much, she would have been a great performer. Tierno wanted to form a dance crew with his team, I've never seen someone mix dance and battle so effortlessly. Trevor..."

His voice became so distant. His eyes focused on something unseen at the foot of the bed. After the silence felt like it could just about strangle the life out of Lysandre, Augustine slowly turned himself to face him, "Trevor looked up to me, wanted to be like me one day. I feel like I let them all down, because I couldn't stop you."

Lysandre stared at his visage reflected by Augustine's stormy eyes. They were close enough that he could feel his uneven gasps. He could see the red streaking just beginning to form on his sunken cheeks. All he wanted to do was bring him back up into his grasp, offer the smallest amount of peace for him.

_"Don't look at me like that.... like I'm a monster... I'm not."_

_"I am though, to him."_

"Please Lysandre, did they suffer. Oh please tell me if they were scared. I can't... I can't bear it." Augustine lost his last bit of control, his chest heaved, his shoulders quaked, and even though Lysandre was the cause of his pain he leaned into his touch and wept into his chest.

Lysandre waited for his weeping to settle. Long fingers gingerly combed matted hair away from the Professor's face. The curls were brushed behind his reddened ears and Lysandre gently caressed his back. The comforter was brought up and tucked around them like a protective cocoon.

After Augustine's breathing became as normal as it was going to be, only then did Lysandre offer his carefully worded answer.

"I believe they were very brave. It takes a lot of courage to stand up for what you feel is right." This he honestly felt was true, the children showed a great amount of courage all the way until the end.

"When they were found they looked peaceful, they died with each other and they didn't feel pain." This was his fabrication. They died together, that much was true. It was not painless, not with the way they cried out when he turned his device on them. That part he would not share, Augustine could never know the truth.

At first it wasn't clear if Augustine heard his answer. He didn't offer much in any way of a reaction. His grip simply tightened at a patch of red chest hair as he nestled in closer. Lysandre watched him closely until he believed that he had fallen asleep.

Then he just laid there staring at his dark ceiling, the only sound came from the slumbering body he held. Sleep was refusing to take him even though he wished it would. He would fail to get easy rest and it was horrible. Though, it couldn't even began to compete with how awful he felt about Augustine. It was the worst feeling in the world.

 

* * *

 

Lysandre stood at the top of the viewing platform. The city was not presented below him, lit up and sparkling. Instead, a thick gripping mist clung to the underside of the protective railing. This same railing was being disregarded by a certain Kalos Professor.

Lysandre's every fiber wanted nothing more than to rush to Augustine, scoop him from the railing and to safety. His legs followed no commands and his arms felt weighted and sluggish, only his voice worked at his request.

"Augustine! Get down, you will fall!"

This Augustine continued his dangerous balancing act. He would nearly stumble, only to catch himself and continue along thin metal. A wicked gaze would flash towards his observer and it would render Lysandre chilled.

"I've clipped your wings, you cannot fly away." He heard himself say.

Again, he tried to command his legs forward. He made the slightest movement, but stopped once he saw Augustine leaning further towards  the edge. The mist that surrounded the tower appeared to open up in anticipation. It was ready to swallow him up and take the Professor away.

"Mon ami, I don't wish to go back to my cage just yet. I want to stretch my wings, it's been so long." To prove his point, Augustine stretched out his arms. His long limbs no longer belonged to that of a human. Lysandre was transfixed on grey feathered wings. They were large, beautiful, and mesmerizing. He wished so badly that he was close enough to run his fingers across them, to feel the soft plumage, and to feel them wrapped around his body.

Then he saw the cut ends. This rendered the wings useless. Augustine could try with all his might, but he would not be able to sustain flight.

"Please." He pleaded, "I will not put you in your cage, just come down." His arms were extended out in front of him now. His hands gestured to try to lure Augustine off his perch.

"Just come with me, I'll keep you safe."

A sharp cackle cut through the air. It struck like talons scraped across a chalk board. Such a sound couldn't possible come out of his Augustine? Yet, when he looked up after covering his ears from the noise. It was indeed Augustine that produced the agonizing sound.

His head was still cocked back, once he set his neck back so he could view Lysandre properly he spoke, "What are you keeping me safe from?"

He staggered and twirled on the railing, his foothold was beginning to fail. This Augustine seemed thrilled at every twitch he was sending through his witness's body. Another shrill laugh answered every plea to be careful.

" Au revoir Monsieur!" Came the sudden singsong voice.

Lysandre's voice failed him as he watched the Professor fall backwards off the railing. He rushed to the edge only to see the faint dark body falling like a rock in the sea. Soon the mist prevented further view, but he knew Augustine didn't fly. His song bird would never fly again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~  

 

"Lysandre... Lysandre, please..."

Pale blue eyes opened slowly at the sound. A yawn escaped him and his arms shifted around the thin body that he still held. Lysandre's head was pounding and his mouth was parched. Apparently he had consumed more wine than he thought. He wanted a large glass of water and aspirin to go with it. He didn't want to wake up quite yet though, his bed was warm and comfortable. It couldn't be time to get up yet, not when he still felt so exhausted.

"Lysandre, you need to help me up... it is quite urgent."

His lazy eyes opened again and searched for the source of the voice. Augustine was watching him with a pleading expression while he lay on his chest.

"What's wrong?" Came Lysandre's gravelly voice.

Augustine pressed his face flat against him briefly before he finally gave his answer, "I... I have to pee. I was trying to stir you earlier, but you sleep like a log. So, I have to pee really really badly."

Obviously, Lysandre's drowsiness was doing little to aid his brain. He just stared while he tried to process the strange announcement. Then it finally hit him, "You need my help."

"Yes, yes I do. Unless you want me to pee the bed, which was my last resort. I haven't done anything like that since I was ten years old." He gave an embarrassed chuckle, "That was a joke, I was never a bed wetter!"

Lysandre let the statement pass and proceeded to assist Augustine until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Now he was a bit unsure how to proceed. He looked over to the wheelchair that was sitting vacant and then over to the open door of the connected master bath.

"Just carry me please, it would be much faster."

Lysandre nodded and soon he was back out in the bedroom collecting discarded clothing off the floor. He tossed the pile into a nearby hamper and pulled out clean sets of clothes for both himself and Augustine.

He collected the glass of water and aspirin that he got from the bathroom and instantly felt some relief as the water hydrated his dry throat. His mind wandered while he waited for Augustine to finish up. He moved his wheelchair near him and Augustine insisted he could manage himself somewhat on his own.

The first thing he couldn't help but notice was his puffy eyes. They reminded him that the conversation the evening before did indeed take place and it wasn't just imagined. This left Lysandre conflicted on his seemingly pleasant demeanor. On one hand he much preferred Augustine making silly jokes and sounding like his usual cheerful self. On the other hand it seemed like he was just masking his pain.

 That left him with another thought, if he was just trying to mask his pain Lysandre didn't want to try to talk to him about last night and hinder that. It might have seemed selfish, but Lysandre didn't want to see Augustine in the same state as before. He decided he would just avoid the topic as long as Augustine did.

A few days passed and the nights became easier. Sleep was far more obtainable with Augustine in such good spirits. Days came with Lysandre feeling rested. Only occasional thoughts of crackling fireworks and soft grey feathers lingered when he woke. They were soon forgotten by the sight of Augustine curled up next to him.

Today they were taking a trip to the fertile farmland that surrounded Camphrier and the Parfum Palace. Malva did well in garnering attention for the cause, of course the promise of them planting the first row caused the whole event to be swamped with volunteers.

On that note, Lysandre made sure he was wearing light clothing for the occasion. Something that wouldn't cause a tragedy if it was to get dirt on it.

"Even what you consider work clothes are tailored perfectly." Augustine had to poke at him, "You should wear a hat.."

"No, absolutely not." He fixed his hair again in his mirror before they headed out, "I have a limit."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

When they arrived the field was already crowded with many onlookers. Some people were sitting together on blankets enjoying quick breakfasts that mainly consisted of boxed crackers and canned beverages.

It proved to be a bit of a task to move Augustine through the loamy soil, but soon he managed and was met by his scientists that all arrived earlier. It was rare to see the whole group out together. Especially Mable, who he last saw when she was still in the hospital.  

She looked far better than when he last saw her. Her face wasn't swollen anymore, it only had some yellowing bruises that remained. Though, her nose was still wrapped in gauze from when it had to be reset. A few wrappings that covered her chest were visible at the top of her loose pastel tunic she wore.

She was eager to get back to work, but Lysandre insisted that she take an extended vacation so she could properly heal. Her position as his assistant wasn't going anywhere and the rest of the scientists took no issue with the extra work. Bryony took it upon herself more than anyone to pull the extra weight. She felt responsible for what happened to Mable. No one blamed her, but that didn't stop her from blaming herself all the same.

It was at Bryony's suggestion that a strict curfew was set up for the city. Ten pm, anyone that was found out wandering would be instantly detained and questioned. Most of the time it was just citizens that lost track of time. So Bryony and her team would escort them back to their place of residence or the nearest center.

Sure the new strict rule caused a bit of strife, especially on the weekends, but it was necessary to ensure everyone's safety.

Bryony looked a bit fatigued. She still was no closer to finding any solid connections to Ex-Peacekeeper Ubel. Part of her wished that Xerosic could have waited a bit longer before he applied capital punishment. Mountains of paperwork and hardly anything promising. The only thing she could find of some interest was the news that he had two siblings.

 When she tried to follow-up on the discovery she found that his siblings never did join Team Flare, they were no longer alive. She thought perhaps this was the reason for his actions. Maybe he really didn't understand that all who didn't join or were chosen would die? In the end she didn't care if his reasons held some secret guilt that morphed into anger. He was still a monster for what he did to Mable and Xerosic's action towards him felt justified.  

For the time being she kept a close eye on the rest of her team. No one was allowed to travel alone. Everyone was assigned a partner and the pairings rotated periodically. No matter what she would not allow what happened to Mable to occur again.

An elderly woman approached the group. She was dressed clearly ready to work. she placed her wrinkled hand at Lysandre's sleeve to gain his attention. He turned to her, offered a graceful bow and a polite kiss at the back of her hand.

"Madame Marguerite Desjardins, good to see you this beautiful day."

Marguerite Desjardins was the matriarch of her large family. She outlived three husbands, none of which she got her name from. She was born and raised in Kalosian high society and always had fond respect for the royal line. That is until she was nearly pushed out of her home of seventy-eight years by the Parfum Palace Steward. It was through Lysandre's actions that she and her family were not removed from the land. That day forward the entire Desjardins family pleaded their loyalties to him with the hope that he would help them earn back what the palace claimed as "taxes." To say the least, Lysandre kept his promise to Marguerite. The knowledge that her family possessed in agriculture was priceless to him after all.

The woman was full of energy and fire, had to be to live the life she had. Despite the simple clothes she adorned herself with, she always took the time to twist up her long silver locks in the fashion that befitted a palace court.

Her aged frame meant little when she spoke, her voice was healthy and strong. Perfect for commanding the many of her children and grand children around her in performing the many tasks needed for field work and work the nearby vineyard.

"Monsieur Fleur-de-lis, the pleasure is mine." She gestured to all the surrounding citizens, "I was worried that I would be working my family ragged to get the fields planted, but again you have not gone back on your word."

Lysandre left Augustine with his scientists. He was already striking up conversations with them as he walked with Marguerite to where the first row had already been dug. Malva was there waiting all smiles. Though the smiles looked a bit forced once he grew closer. It was easy to see why once they arrived. She chose quite poorly in footwear and was shifting a bit awkwardly as her heel spikes sank into the dirt.

Mable was glad to see that Augustine looked so well. Even though he was currently reliant on his chair it didn't stop him from being quite animated while he conversed. He was currently telling a lively tale that detailed the accounts of his first clutch of Charmander eggs that were hatched at the lab many years ago. Long story short: there were some trips to the emergency room for some assistants for burns and Augustine was threatened with losing his only recently gained license to run the program.

Xerosic snorted at the memory, he recalled the true ending of the story. It was after all, when he first suspected that his boss and the Professor were more than just close friends.

Lysandre had been livid at the possibility of Augustine losing his ability to run a starter program.

"After all the legal garbage he had to go through. After months of waiting for a single signature from the head of the league. Oh I know it sat on that man's desk for weeks before he even gave it a single glance. Even had the gull to send it back with a coffee stain on it!"

Xerosic simply listened, with mild curiosity, at Lysandre's rant. Another social injustice, another innocent soul abused by a corrupt system. Let nobody say that Lysandre didn't have bleeding heart moments. Most of which revolved around a certain Professor who couldn't even see that people stepped on him left and right.

"Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire." 

Lysandre certainly did and Augustine's license was left untouched. Though Xerosic was completely certain that the Professor had no idea that Lysandre had anything to do with the outcome. He was sure Lysandre didn't share the amounts of blackmail and political sabotage that went on to keep Sycamore Labs open. Really didn't sound like the typical bedroom talk when he really thought about it.

Xerosic turned his attention on Mable. She was watching Malva struggle in her heels while her and Lysandre addressed the ample supply of able bodies. Her laugh was cut short by a bit of pain that lingered in her chest. After fishing out some pain medication from her shoulder bag, she looked up to see Xerosic waiting with a bottle of water for her.

"Thank you."

"Yeah..."

Mable wasn't bothered with Xerosic's manner of speaking with her. She figured it was still hard for him to share with her his true feelings. At any rate she had long forgiven him for acting like an ass before and simply enjoyed his company. After she took her medicine she moved over on the blanket she sat on to allow Xerosic to join. After a bit she caught Malva occasionally sneak glances their way. After the third time Mable made a show of grabbing Xerosic's hand and leaning her head on his shoulder. She stopped looking over after that and the bonus of surprising Xerosic made it feel sweet.

Soon everyone was up assisting with some sort of task.  Madame Marguerite wasted no time in directing large groups of people to the various fields. Each group was lead by one of her sons or daughters, some by her grandchildren.

Mable stayed behind and kept Augustine company. She was just about to start a topic with him when his saddened expression caught her off guard. His bright eyes were a bit dull as he watched Lysandre work with a group that was planting all different types of lettuce. Then his gaze shifted to some nearby children constructing dirt forts and throwing rocks at neighboring forts.

_"Hey no fair! I said time out!"_

His gaze shifted again to a pair of teenagers that were skipping out on the field work to head out towards the Parfum Palace. They were all laughs, smiles, and rebellion. Far more interested in what was going on in their partner's mouth than working in dirt.

"Professor Sycamore... or I mean..." Mable mentally kicked herself. It felt a little wrong to call him the Professor now.

"Augustine is fine." He sounded cheerful for the most part, but it seemed a bit strained. His face quickly reset to the typical happy-go-lucky expression he wore.

Mable paused she wasn't sure if she should ask what was on his mind. They weren't close, she couldn't really say they were friends. Yet, she found that she cared and even worried about his feelings.

"Augustine, are you alright?"

The Professor shifted in his chair and adjusted one of his sleeves that chose to unroll itself at one point. Probably during his very expressive story from earlier. He then flashed Mable a very convincing smile, "I'm doing wonderful, the fresh air is doing me some good."

His eyes darted over to the path the teens took earlier, "I'm just thinking of asking Lysandre to take me to the Parfum Palace after this, it's been ages since I've gone."   

When Lysandre returned he brushed the back of his hand across his sweating forehead. Augustine made no mention of the bit of color forming on his nose and cheekbones. Or how red the back of his neck was currently. Lysandre became all too aware of his tender skin when Augustine motioned him down to his level so he could brush off the dirt he had smudged into his face.

Lysandre grimaced when his fingers pressed sunburned skin and triggered by Augustine's "I told you so" look he sighed, "Yes, I should have worn a hat."

Mable pushed aside the thoughts she had about Augustine's earlier downtrodden expression. Seeing him fuss over Lysandre and their sweet touches made her think that maybe it really was nothing after all.

 She gave her goodbyes, Lysandre told her to keep relaxing and to get well, and she watched as they traveled off to the Parfum Palace. She was relieved that Lysandre finally looked truly happy. Yes, the Professor must have been happy too.

 

* * *

 

Walking through towering golden gates, they entered a place of abundance and over extravagance. A testament to wealth and greed, if Lysandre was asked.

Augustine however, "How grand! The preservation of Kalos history is still wonderful to behold! It is so much quieter than the last time I visited, of course that was..."

"The holocaster launch party, it was a busy event."

Lysandre didn't mean to sound so reluctant of the memory. Truth be told, the event was a huge success. It was only some of the company that he wished to have expunged from it. A few members of supposed "family" that didn't share his view of helping the "lesser" social circles.

One such member, he watched unable to assist, forced Augustine out onto the dance floor in an attempt to waltz. He was currently tied up with questions from various reporters, all far too excited that they were covering such an event.

Never one to allow himself to fade into the background, the palace Steward made sure to present himself often next to Lysandre. He made sure that reporters snapped pictures of the two of them shaking hands. Told everyone who would listen how he was sponsoring the event for his dear relative.

Lysandre treated himself to some champagne, he was exercising extreme restraint and patience. It was only somewhat true that the Steward was sponsoring the event. Offering the location, yes. Everything else, no. He chose to pay for the catering, his staff handled the planning, and he made sure that anything that could be donated at the end was.

"Oh Lysandre!" Came his clamorous voice, "It looks like my dear little princess, Allie found a friend in that Pokémon Professor." He motioned over to where the two were still twirling around the dance floor.

Lysandre felt a bit of pity. He would make sure to rescue him shortly. Allie was the Steward's daughter, looked like her late mother to a T, and was as spoiled as spoiled could get. The gown she wore was so full that it looked like it would drag poor Augustine into it. So full and so damn pink and encrusted in a shameful amount of crystals. Surely, it weighted more than she did and cost enough money to feed starving children until they weren't children anymore.

"I don't mean to judge, but why did you invite him? He's not exactly high society, he is just a scholar given a reclaimed building on the small chance that he'll produce some sort of discovery."

Lysandre would reward himself another glass of champagne, his self control was on point that evening. Instead of tearing his "relative" a new one like he really wanted to, he answered with complete ease and coolness, "Because he is brilliant, I've learned a lot from him already. Also, he is a friend to me and I always treat my friends well."

Wasn't much that could be said to argue that. It appeared the Steward thought it wise to keep further thoughts and judgments to himself. Regardless of his reason for finally excusing himself and freeing Lysandre of his presence, Lysandre was just happy to finally be able to rescue his guest. 

Just like the last time they were there together, Augustine and Lysandre stood at the back balcony overlooking the gardens. Of course now the untrimmed hedges barely held the shape of the pokémon they were supposed to depict. The grand marble statues still stood guard over the grounds.

Lysandre supported Augustine while he stood a bit shaky. He held the stone railing like a lifeline and even though he insisted that he could probably stand on his own this way, Lysandre still held him.

The sky was changing to warmer hues and the entirety of the balcony was glowing with golden light. Augustine looked peaceful, almost celestial in the warm glow. His hair rustled slightly in a forgiving cool breeze. Lysandre only wished that such a breeze offered its relief earlier that day.

"I'm trying to remember a poem I heard once." Augustine pointed to the large dragon statues below, "I feel like it was about them, but I can't remember it."

He sighed and allowed Lysandre to support him further, "I'm not much of a poet, if I was I think I would be inspired."

Lysandre had to agree, though his muse wasn't located out in some overgrown garden or encased in cold lifeless stone.

"Augustine, I'm happy that you are here with-"

A sharp whistle pierced their ears and it was followed by an explosion that decorated the sky with blue fire. A pair of teens stumbled out of a shed at the end of the garden, they seemed to have the found the late Steward's fireworks.

"HEY!" Lysandre bellowed.

The two teens jumped and looked mareepshly up at the irritated redhead on the balcony. Lysandre was prepared to scold their behavior, get after them for skipping out on work, and for playing with dangerous high grade explosives. He was about to do this until he felt Augustine rubbing his arm to gain his attention.

"Don't be too hard on them, we've all been that age. No one got hurt, I'm pretty sure they startled themselves when it went off."

Lysandre sighed, leave it to Augustine to see it that way. He made the choice to be a bit softer in his approach. He called them over so he wouldn't have to yell and strain his voice.

"You shouldn't mess with something so dangerous, at least not without proper precautions..." He pondered for a second and an idea came to mind, "At least don't let them go to waste. Any that look like they can be salvaged collect and box. I'm sure we can find events to put them to use, we should at least make it so everyone can enjoy them."

The two teens looked relieved that they were not in serious trouble.

"Yes sir!" They called out before running back across the garden to return to the shed.

Lysandre gave an exasperated sigh, but was soon rewarded with Augustine snuggling further into his touch. He figured they could stay out there just a bit longer. There wasn't a huge rush to head back to Lumiose quite yet.

 

* * *

 

**(Seven months after the weapon fired.)**

Lysandre was overseeing some remodeling projects. Parts gutted from buildings in the city's blackout section were put to use to keep residents comfortable in the new summer quality heat. Celosia stood quietly, pointing to a few members of her team and giving instructions to others.

There was a faint chime from Lysandre's holocaster. He pulled it out and discovered that he had a message from Augustine.

_"I think I've just read every book in your office so you know, are you coming back soon?"_

Lysandre took a look at a few more project requests that he had on his clipboard. He signed the ones that he thought could be started at this time and handed the clipboard over to Celosia.

"I must be on my way, but call if there is anything else you need."

She nodded and turned her attention back on one of her members that needed her supervision.

Finally, Lysandre sent Augustine back a reply:

 _"I'm heading your way now,_ _mon cher would you like me to grab you anything?"_

His response was quick:

_"Nothing I can think of, I would like to go for a walk though..."_

Lysandre felt a bit guilty for leaving him in the tower nearly all day. That was more common than it really should have been. Augustine didn't seem to mind at first. He had free reign of the tower. He still relied on his wheelchair quite often, but had moments that he could stand only aided with a cane. Plus Lysandre had a wide collection of books he kept in his office for him to read. Though, he really didn't plan for Augustine to read through them so quickly.

_"We can go for a walk, that sounds lovely. Where would you like to go?"_

It shouldn't have surprised Lysandre what Augustine's response was:

_"My lab."_

Lysandre knew he couldn't keep making excuses, there was only so much he could say to try to keep him from wanting to go. Nothing would work and it was getting to the point he was worried that it may cause a fight. Lysandre was already worried that a wedge could be brought between them at anytime.

It still bothered and confused him that Augustine made no further mention of his feelings on the people he lost. He didn't tell him that he was a horrible man for bringing an end to countless lives. He also made no mention of how the pokémon, including the ones he once studied were gone.

He spoke about them in the past tense, but that was about as close as Augustine got to acknowledging it. Even then, such topics were rarely brought up. This was mainly out of the fear it would trigger some negative reaction out of him. Lysandre even made sure that those who addressed him did so by his name and not by Professor.

Countless things all done because Lysandre was scared. He was scared that all the happiness would morph back to the first night and he would be left with the reality that Augustine didn't want to be there. That the world he created wasn't one Augustine could find joy in no matter how much time went by.

He was scared that Augustine wished that he had died. So in some way he would be with all those he shed tears for losing. None of these were things he ever heard Augustine say, but it didn't remove the fear.

So finally he gave Augustine his answer, he couldn't run away anymore.

_"Yes, I'll take you."_

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lysandre dared not try to turn back now. Once they passed the canal it was very clear that Augustine was trying to urge him to go faster. Buildings at this half only served as empty frames, most were cleared of any and all contents. The faint buzz from electrical wires was nowhere to be heard. Only the sound of Lysandre's dragging steps and wheels against cobblestone. Once they arrived in front of the lawn, Lysandre felt his heart sink.

His last memory of standing outside the lab was flooding back, despite the fact that Augustine was right in front of him. They approached the doors and Lysandre took a moment to pry the wooden boards that had been nailed across them to keep people from entering.

He didn't want anyone to disturb the lab, so he ordered it boarded up. Now it felt like he was opening a time capsule. Once the final board was removed and the doors opened it really did feel like they both stepped back in time. Back when they would enter and the woman at the front desk would greet them.

The desk held no one, but it still held some stacks of mail that had been left before it was sorted. It was strange how they kicked up dust as they moved ahead, how so much dust could settle without anyone present.

Augustine shifted, his gaze didn't stay on any single thing for very long. He would take note of some covered machines, once so useful for his research. He switched to a nearby room with a large observation window. After staring silently at that for a while he finally settled on the staircase.

"I want something from my office."

Lysandre noticed the change in his tone. It didn't hold any joy, but at the same time almost sounded fearful or confused.

"Yes, Augustine. I'll carry-"

"No."

Lysandre paused and waited for him to tell him what he wanted him to do.

"Could you roll me out to the back garden? I would like to sit out there while you go get what I need."

With a heavy sigh he agreed and soon they stepped out into the once pristine garden that once housed many lab pokémon. The lawn was now overgrown. Various weeds grew, choking out the plants that use to flower and add color to the space. The pond that once had pokémon that would filter the water and keep it clear, now sat stagnant. Only the few trees that grew in the space remained unaffected.

Augustine pointed to a spot underneath the largest central tree where he wished to be left.

"Thank you." He said barely above a whisper.

Lysandre turned to head to the staircase, but stopped short, "What did you need me to collect for you?"

"The picture..."

Lysandre felt a smile tug at his lips, "Of course, I'll return shortly."

His steps were quick as he climbed the first few flights of stairs. The quicker that he collected the picture the quicker they could both leave the lab and hopefully never come back. Once he made it to the third floor and passed around the dividing wall to Augustine's office he suddenly froze.

The floor was a carpet of paper. Lysandre recognized his neat handwriting in the margins on a few pages. Some were handwritten speeches that were a mess of black ink. Others detailed what starters were requested and how many were hatched. All of them involved some facet of his research, all of it was useless to him now.

Lysandre stared because what he saw was the entirety of a man's work. Every page bled with years of research, years of hard labor, years of standing up in front of peers begging for a budget. It now just sat like meaningless ink. The next generation wouldn't even know that children use to come here to receive their first pokémon. The term "Mega Evolution" wouldn't mean anything to the same group. Later generations might forget that creatures called pokémon even existed. Any tales that remained would become legend and soon would be nothing but myth.

Lysandre brushed a hand on an extra lab coat that hung at the window. He was almost tempted to take it with him, if only for the possibility of seeing Augustine in it again. His foot crunched into Augustine's old holocaster. When he reached down to gather it up off the floor he paused. Underneath some nearby pages he could see the bright frame of the picture he was sent to fetch.

His chest felt tight as he brought the picture into view. Augustine looked so different, so did he. Augustine looked so lively, a bright ball of excitement. Even Lysandre looked pleased, of course the day had been a fond memory. He noticed the jagged crack in the glass that ran between them. His finger traced it. This caused him to nearly drop the frame when the glass cut his fingertip. He watched the blood bloom before he firmly pressed his fingertips together to stop the bleeding. Once it appeared to clot up he pulled the photo out of the frame and carefully rolled it up and put it into his pocket.

On his return to the garden he looked to the large tree where Augustine was left. The chair was empty.

"Augustine!" He shouted, running to the wheelchair. He knew he could not have gone far, not with his legs still being so weak.

Then he heard him, it was faint but it was definitely his voice. From the sound of it he sounded like he was talking to someone. Lysandre followed the sound until he found him at the far end of his garden. He was kneeling in the tall grass, his hands were out in front of him like he was touching something, petting something. Augustine didn't act like he heard Lysandre approach.

"Oh petits bébés, you all look so healthy."

Lysandre didn't know how to approach. All he could do is watch as Augustine continued to speak to absolutely nothing. Finally, he couldn't stand by any longer. He dropped down at his side and brought his hand down on his shoulder.

"Who are you talking to?" He asked in a low tone.

Augustine didn't seem startled at the question, or embarrassed by it. He just let out a gentle laugh before he gave his explanation, "I'm sorry, I forget that nobody seems to see them but me."

Even though it was useless to do so, he pointed out in front of him, "The pokémon Lysandre, they all were waiting for me to visit it seems."   

A wave of stress gripped Lysandre, "Augustine, there isn't anything there."

Augustine didn't fight it when Lysandre lifted him up. The taller man made the choice that bringing Augustine to his lab was a bad decision and wanted to leave immediately. As he carried him away he couldn't help but notice that he kept looking back at the spot he was at. Then his gaze would shoot up above them and then below them. Even though Lysandre knew there was no way Augustine was truly seeing these things he had to admit the way his neck prickled, he almost felt like he was being watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me, it ended up being far longer than I thought it would be.  
> Here is some music that I listened to while I wrote this chapter:
> 
> Lana Del Ray-Million Dollar Man
> 
> Of Monsters and Men-Love Love Love
> 
> Ellie Goulding-This Love (Will Be Your Downfall)
> 
> David Guetta-Dangerous 
> 
> Of Monsters and Men-Little Talks


	10. Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. This chapter was originally quite long and I just broke it up so I could save the rest for the remainder of chapter 11. With any hope that chapter will be posted soon. 
> 
> So a bit to get into before diving in... this chapter contains sexual content, the likes of which may be a bit uncomfortable. (not necessarily dub con, but could be taken as unhealthy reason for sex.) 
> 
> This chapter gets into the use of improper treatment for a patient and inhumane medical practice. 
> 
> Also, just so it isn't confusing you should assume that all characters are speaking Kalosian (French) unless specified otherwise. (sorry if that is kind of weird.)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyTfbtZeGeU This is a song that comes into play later on in the chapter, I wanted to give you all the chance to listen to it before to enjoy that scene further.

"You're doing great today Augustine!" The cheerful nurse known as Clarice called out while she watched the Professor walk with his hands sliding across the nearby support bars. His arms quivered ever so slightly so she stayed close behind, ready just in case he grew weary.

It was true, the Professor was looking far better than even weeks earlier. His muscle tone was finally beginning to return. Now that the scar tissue from where his feeding port was removed healed up he was eating more. His diet was better than it ever was in the past, Lysandre made sure he got the best meals to ensure his recovery. His usual go to of coffee, tea, and vending machine snacks was replaced with warm home cooked meals and fresh produce from the fields. Even with the improved diet, for his height, his weight was still at the low end. That was pretty normal for him, Augustine always was on the skinny side.

"At this rate you won't be needing to see us anymore!" Came his second nurse, Ronald, he was standing at the end of the bars ready to assist him if needed.

The fitness room had bright murals that decorated the walls. It gave the room a much more favorable vibe than the rest of the hospital. Each wall was covered with skillful brush marks of vivid rich color. Various plants and flowers, obviously painted by skilled hand, framed the corners. Detailed pokémon were shown frolicking through patches of tall wispy grass. You could practically feel the gentle breeze rustling the fur of a sleepy Dedenne curled up under a small flowering tree.

Augustine barely heard what Ronald had said to him. He was too focused on the painted scene on the wall ahead of him. Cheerful Combees flitted from flower to flower. One of the flowers was being claimed by a Floette. Swirls of blues and turquoise made up a lively brook complete with a Magikarp leaping from its current. Peeking out from a nearby shrub was a mischievous looking Gible. Even with its rows of perfectly painted sharp teeth, the small Gible looked gentle.   

All the sudden Augustine's legs grew shaky and as if instantly jinxed, his legs buckled out from under him. Clarice rushed forward and caught him under each arm. After that, she assisted him back into his waiting wheelchair. She cast her fellow, Ronald, a dirty look. The other nurse gave her a look of "I didn't do anything" and walked over to offer his support.

Augustine took a moment to catch his breath while he rubbed his tired legs.

"Well, looks like you both still have to deal with me for a bit longer." He chuckled while he finally brought his gaze away from the painted faces of the pokémon around him.

"You know what Augustine?" Ronald began, "I have something we can do while you sit in your chair."

Out in the nearby hall, standing underneath the harsh florescence lights that bounced off the sickly white walls, stood Dr. Duval and Lysandre. Neither appeared to be observing Augustine's session, but were instead in the midst of a confrontational discussion. The Doctor scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck and adjusted the edge of his scrub top.

"Look," He began, turning his attention on Lysandre, "I don't think you really understand what you are asking me to do."

Lysandre didn't appear interested in arguing the issue at hand, he placed his palm against the cool nearby glass and sighed, "I'm not asking. He is sick. I've seen it with my own eyes. I've witnessed him talking to things that are not there, reaching out to these things like he actually sees them.

Duval glanced inside the fitness room, Augustine was currently playing a game with his two nurses. They took turns kicking an exercise ball to each other. Ronald only nearly avoided getting smacked in the face when the Professor sent it airborne with a powerful kick. He blushed slightly from embarrassment which made everyone in the room burst out in laughter. After that, the three continued the playful game and pleasant banter.

"He is making so much progress. I fear that doing this will set back his recovery. Don't you think that there is some other cause of his visions?"

"Like what?" Lysandre's voice had a definite edge to it. He loomed over the Doctor dominating with his height, his eyes burning into him, "What do you think is causing it, Doctor?"

Doctor Duval really wanted to say that he thought it was a byproduct of some grief. Lysandre didn't know, but when Augustine was first brought to the hospital after he awoke, he was overheard by a few staff members weeping in his sleep. These episodes passed quickly under the hospital care. Augustine always put on a cheerful face when staff came in to check on him, though it was hard to hide the evidence in his eyes. It wouldn't surprise him if this was some sort a way that the Professor found to deal with the new reality around him. Everyone had their own ways, sure seeing things wasn't all that healthy, but there were worse things.

While Duval had his family that kept him content, others were less fortunate. The major reason for assigning Clarice and Ronald for the Professor's physical therapy was the simple fact that they could sympathize with his position. Neither of them were originally from the Kalos region, nor did they have any family that moved with them. Even though he only heard later, both took the change rather hard once the Director's plan went through. Keeping them both busy caring for someone in need seemed to be doing them some good. Some people just need a continued purpose.    

Instead of answering the question Duval continued with his concerns, "I don't feel comfortable with forcing such drugs on a recovering patient, and you shouldn't either!"

"Don't scold me. I'm only doing this for his own well being. I'm not happy about it, but it needs to be done." Lysandre's words felt final, he clearly had no wish to continue the debate.

Duval took a moment to consider the Director's words, "At the very least give some thought into the possibility of him seeking counseling. What you want is only a temporary solution, without counseling he'll just revert back to how he was before."

"Fine, just get his prescription made." Lysandre responded shortly.  

Maybe Duval was a coward, but in the end he didn't want to push something that would fall on deaf ears. He knew that once Lysandre made up his mind there was little that could be done to change it. Even though he felt strongly that what he was agreeing to was inhumane, he agreed.

"I'll mix up a prescription for him, that doesn't guarantee anything will change overnight. He'll need to be monitored closely for changes in his personality."

Duval was about to part when he added, "You know, you still have to get him to take the medication. You shouldn't force him."

Lysandre didn't even offer a response, he just turned his attention back on Augustine and his nurses in the fitness room. The Doctor's shoulders and back tensed with stress while he walked away. Another concern to fall on deaf ears.

**(July, 8 months after the weapon fired.)**

_"Mon amour please... This will cause me less worry. You only need this for now, just until your counseling is complete at least..."_

It was early, it had to be because Lysandre hadn't awoke. Normally, he made sure to get up at a decent hour so he could make sure Augustine ate some breakfast before he left to oversee the never ending list of projects.

The bare body of the Professor shivered under the thick comforters that covered the wide expanse of bedding. His movements caused his sleep partner to bring their bodies closer. The small body was wrapped up in large limbs while lips pressed into disheveled curls. The wild locks tickled the bare skin of Lysandre's face. Both bodies were bare because of the summer heat. It was hard to pass up the feeling of sleek covers over exposed skin, made for comfortable nightly slumber.

_"Do you hear yourself? What you see isn't real, none of it is real! Please I beg of you, this will help you. Just take the medicine for me..."_

Augustine shivered again, a small gasp escaped his partly opened lips.

_"I don't want to Lysandre, I don't want this!"_

_"You must, if not for me, for yourself..."_

The vast heat was already making itself known outside the thick walls of the Prism Tower. The rainy spring transitioned into a sweltering, dry summer. Extra work had to be done to insure the fields didn't dry. Most stayed indoors, thankful that air conditioning units worked efficiently. With so little strain on the power grid, everyone could run their air conditioning units full blast without issue.

The Prism Tower was no different. It was kept pleasantly cool so that the mound of soft blankets were still welcome to the resting pair. Of course now Lysandre was no longer resting, he eyed his partner carefully before he protectively cradled him onto his chest. He felt accomplished once Augustine ceased in his shivers and nuzzled a slightly scruffy face into the crook of his neck.   

Even if the redhead's alarm was to sound at this point he probably wouldn't get up right away. Not when an opportunity presented itself. With nude bodies curled around each other it was hard to ignore an obvious feature.  It was morning, he wasn't necessarily fully awake, but something was. By the feel of it, Augustine had the same issue.

It was still a guilty thing really, having such desires. It was only made more difficult by the fact that Lysandre wasn't sought out by his lover to sate the urges like he would have in the past. Things weren't how they were before of course and Lysandre didn't try to fool himself of that fact. Their sex lives with one another dwindled to only occasional moments that chose to present themselves. These only happened if he made to choice to initiate. In these cases Lysandre was pleased that Augustine wouldn't say no.

Lysandre adjusted himself again and gently flipped himself on top of his still sleepy partner. Soft kisses followed, creating a trail from Augustine's chest up to the side of his neck. Once tired grey eyes opened, his lips were finally claimed.

"Good morning." Lysandre's voice adapted a rather husky quality to it. He combed his fingers through Augustine's sleep tossed locks and hooked a long piece behind his ear.

"Morning." Augustine yawned. He blinked and appeared to be trying to process his current position. It didn't take long once his eyes wandered down Lysandre's form. He allowed himself a moment to follow the small trail of hair that lead to his navel. He admired Lysandre's toned stomach and thighs. Of course he didn't ignore the sight of his lover's arousal. Even with that clear hint, plus his own body showing interest, it didn't change the fact that he just felt off.

Like mounds of cotton packed into his ears all the way to his  brain. His thoughts were hard to focus, sometimes just sounding like literal static. Much like the cheap TV he had in his old apartment. The one he had to twist metal clothes hangers to bring in a signal. Even with all the twisted metal and eventually tin foil that he added, it would still bring in static more than anything that resembled a program.

That was his mind most of the time. Just a thick fog that allowed the occasional clear thought to come into view. Ever since he agreed to take the medication that Lysandre had the Doctor prepare for him. Ever since the day that Lysandre told him how worried he was about him, that he was sick and needed this to get well. Augustine didn't argue for long, he agreed because some part of him thought that perhaps he really was sick.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"So, what type of things do you see?"

That was the first question that Doctor Duval asked him during his first session with him. He answered honestly. He told him about little flashes he would see, Pidove flocking around a park bench, Fletchling chirping out songs in surrounding trees. He told him how he saw pokémon following who he assumed were their old trainers. These people completely unaware that their old partners still walked by their sides. He told him about the incident in the lab garden, how it made him feel.

Happy.

"Do you think what you see is real?"

Oh, he didn't answer right away. At first he thought that he should just tell the doctor what he wanted to hear. That he knew they weren't real. Truth was, he didn't know. So finally he just said that, "I don't know."

"They can't be real Augustine, I know you know that."

He only gave the Doctor a voiceless response. What else could he say? He already agreed to take the medication for Lysandre. It may have been unrealistic, but some part of him hoped the medicine would fix him. Though he never really considered himself broken until recently.

He was though in a way, or at least he wasn't as he should be in Lysandre's new world. Perhaps the medication would rewire him like a piece of technology. Update his software to become compatible with the new operating system. He could just envision Lysandre poking around inside his brain like he did with his holocaster prototype. He would clip out unneeded parts and mend together the pieces that he wanted to preserve.

The visions he saw of pokémon.

_snip._

The pain he felt when he thought of those he lost.

_snip._

His concerns for Lysandre's new future.

_snip._

In this strange fantasy that Augustine weaved for himself he could see Lysandre looking over his handy work and appearing satisfied, but instead of staying to piece back the new frayed ends that he left behind he would leave as though it was done.

_"Wait, you're not done! I don't feel better. I just feel nothing."_

Oh, but in this fantasy Lysandre wouldn't hear him. He was mute, unable to tell the other that this wasn't helping him. His senses were now dulled and as far as Lysandre was concerned, he was fixed.

 he didn't feel fixed, far from it. The memories were still there, his sadness of those he lost didn't fade. He just didn't react, he didn't have the energy. He wasn't even sure if he saw the "visions" anymore. His brain weighed on him far too heavily, slow and sluggish . Augustine just wanted to curl up and sleep. At least in his slumber the static wasn't so loud.

Augustine didn't hate the man for causing all his issues. On the contrary, he still knew he loved him. Even though some part of him knew he shouldn't, he wanted Lysandre close. Whether it was for his undying past feelings or some sort of desperation, perhaps a mix of both, that remained a constant.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

No amount of fuzz on the brain could keep Augustine from returning those tender touches that he was receiving. He wanted them, he craved them. This way he could feel something rather than grogginess and that's what he wanted more than anything. Anything was better than his dull state he found himself in again and again. Sometimes he would just stare at a wall for an hour without realizing it. His eyes reflecting the same red color that bled into everything Lysandre touched. The lights were on in the expanse of his troubled mind, but nobody was home. He was held captive by the chemicals he ingested and right now only Lysandre held the key to his temporary freedom.

Every groan let the larger man know that he could continue. Teasing fingers slid down a sleek collarbone, traced around soft pink nipples, and drew little circles down a thin waist. It wasn't long before Augustine felt completely exposed. His body shivered again, this time from the chilled air. He opened his eyes curiously to see Lysandre staring at him quite intently.

He was drinking in every patch of creamy skin, every freckle, the way his newly formed muscle looked on his slender body. He wanted nothing more than to dive in and ravage Augustine like he would in the past. Reduce his lover to only being able to cry out his name, gasp, and beg for more.

Lysandre controlled himself however, he continued with his exploration of Augustine's body. Fingers were now replaced by a tongue while he made little circles into his neck. His hot breath puffed against Augustine's ear, "What do you want?"

 _"I don't know."_ Echoed a familiar thought.

He really didn't. It wasn't something that he could easily answer. One part of him didn't want to try to think, just allow himself to enjoy the feelings around him. Another part, a deeper part, felt that everything was wrong. That side tried to voice itself more and more, yet Augustine just didn't have the energy to address it properly. It was easily brushed aside for his growing desire. He needed the release, he needed whatever Lysandre would offer.

"Please... just take me."

Lysandre's lips traced into a smile, "As you wish."

Augustine allowed himself to slip into the temporary bliss. His mind felt truly unburdened by the creeping deep thoughts that tried to cry out above the static. The only thing that mattered to him in that moment was the feeling of his partner, the man he loved.

The heat grew as he felt himself be swallowed up in Lysandre's burning passion. It was hard not to be, his passions were always quite overwhelming. This was true in all regards, not just the bedroom. His passions in bed were only learned later on in their relationship.

Soft murmurs and moans accompanied a fist full of thick red hair. Augustine gazed down half lidded, drunk from the nearly overwhelming feeling that consumed him. His breath hitched as his length was enveloped in Lysandre's warm mouth. He stayed very attentive, his tongue tracing the underside of his arousal and circling the tip before his whole mouth took the length entirely again. He relished in every twitch he caused in the Professor. Augustine's legs quivered with each passing movement, facial hair tickled his thighs.

Lysandre took his time with pleasing his partner. The movements of his tongue were met with muffled pleas for more. He acquired some lube from the nightstand and worked it into his fingers. His movements were cautious and compassionate, only working at Augustine's entrance as much as he could handle for the moment. It wasn't long before more pleas were made, they both wanted to be closer and the lube was reclaimed. Arms wrapped around Lysandre's broad shoulders like a lifeline, Augustine let out a gasp while he felt himself being entered.

 _"Slow, slow, gentle."_       

The rising heat traveled up his spine as Lysandre held his hips firmly. Yet, his fingers didn't dig into his skin. Augustine learned a long time ago that Lysandre could be a gentle lover. For that he was thankful, especially in times such as their current session.

"Do you want me to go faster?" He asked after sucking on Augustine's lower lip, leaving it swollen and rosy.

All Augustine could do was nod and buck his hips back with need. He just wanted Lysandre to continue, he wasn't ready for reality to come back yet. He wasn't ready for the fog to roll back in and claim him. Another smile crept across his lover's flushed face and Lysandre happily obliged.

Once it was all over, Augustine lazily rested his head on Lysandre's chest while his fingers played with a small patch of red chest hair. Lysandre decided that it wasn't too cliché to light a cigarette. He pulled a crystal ash tray from his night stand and flicked some of the building ash into it before offering Augustine a puff. He accepted and kept it to himself how stale the cigarette tasted. They both watched Augustine's puffs of smoke try to collide and merge with Lysandre's smoke rings he made for his amusement. Once it was done being shared Lysandre glanced over at a clock on the far wall and let out an unhappy groan.

"We should get cleaned up. I still need to get you some breakfast, then I must be on my way."

A side glance in the bathroom mirror quickly reminded Augustine why morning sex was often overrated. Not to mention the soreness he was bound to feel later on regardless. Lysandre could be as gentle as he wanted starting out. Augustine was guilty with often asking for more impact. Great in the moment, not so much later.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Professor? Don't you want to sit in your chair? You'll hurt your back hunched over your desk like that."

"Dexio, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Professor Sycamore said with his usual cheerful tone, "How lucky I am to have such caring assistants."

Sycamore continued to flip through a stack of mail on his desk. Bills, nothing but bills. Why not a nice love letter or even a magazine subscription. Thankfully money was no longer an issue for the lab. He smiled while he pushed them aside triumphantly.

"I take it your meeting with Lysandre went well?" Dexio asked innocently.

"Mon Dieu! Go away and leave me to my shame!" The Professor's face took on a deep shade of scarlet that traveled all the way to his neck and ears. Oh yes the meeting went swimmingly, everything  that he had been craving. Then they even settled some budget issues with the lab, bonus!

It wasn't until he got a good look at Dexio's confused face that he realized that the poor boy had no clue what his outburst was for. Sycamore made for quick damage control.

"I'm sorry, I believe I drank decaf by accident this morning. How about we go out to the cafe across the street, my treat."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The shower was heavenly. Even though he really didn't need the help, it still felt nice to have someone else wash his hair. It made him feel special and well cared for. Lysandre took utmost care with working the thick lather through each strand, he worked out tangles with his fingertips. Augustine had to try not to nod off when his scalp was massaged. Then they would stand while the hot water turned their sides pink and just allow the steam to cleanse away all the murk.

Once the shower was concluded though, some murk always returned to the Professor. Lysandre would finger through his freshly toweled hair and bring over some fresh clothes for him to wear. Things like this would cause the chemical firewall to breakdown slightly. Once he was dressed and presentable again, the thought would latch on: was all that he was to Lysandre a pet or a prized doll?

Breakfast was simple. A bowl of freshly sliced berries and coffee that tasted relatively fresh. Which was quite an achievement.

"I'll be back for lunch." Lysandre informed him while he speared the last of his berries onto his fork.

He walked around the small rounded table that they dined together at and offered Augustine a chaste kiss at the ridge of his cheekbone. He made sure Augustine's cane was nearby, he still needed a little support with walking. Then he was off, dressed and ready to meet with his many faithful.

Augustine was left to stare at his refection in his mug of black coffee. He counted exactly twenty ticks from the clock before he placed it back on the table top and made his way around the room. There was a desk that overlooked one of the large windows, the picture that Lysandre recovered sat on it in a new frame with pristine glass. The cascading crimson curtains were tied back to let in the natural light, even with the open curtains the room seemed darker than it should.

The glow he felt from the love making had since worn off, hard. He was left feeling worn, hazy, and dull. There was hardly any resemblance between himself and the version that was all smiles in the frame.  After awhile Augustine finally realized he didn't know what he even wanted to do. At this point he was just wandering aimlessly, looking at objects that he's seen a thousand times, and occasionally just leaning on his cane. So he did the only thing that his mind bothered to offer. He leaned his cane against the same end table that held the ash tray. The covers were thrown back in a lazy fashion and soon Augustine crawled underneath them.

Sleep was the only thing that came easily to him and at that moment he was thankful.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Time passed by, hardly noticed by Augustine. Each day was much of the same. More often than not Lysandre would return for lunch like he always did and would find the Professor huddled under the mountain of covers and pillows. He would pierce the cocoon and pull the sleepy man out from its confines. They would eat lunch together, but Lysandre noticed that his plate would be hardly picked at.

Augustine's hand would be brought up and kissed and Lysandre would share stories of building projects and his afternoon plans. The Professor would hear these words, but they wouldn't settle. They would simply add to the static that only seemed to grow daily.

Once prompted, Augustine would nod at whatever Lysandre's suggestion was for dinner and continue to push food across his plate. These things weren't being ignored by the other man. If anything the change in Augustine's attitude and energy was a constant thought on his mind. He just didn't know exactly how to approach it.

Doctor Duval would request Augustine to be returned to the hospital and that wasn't something Lysandre wanted. He was certain that Augustine's low would pass and they would be able to move on from it. For the time being he tried little things in an attempt to brighten his day while he was out.

A note left on the nightstand, written on crisp parchment in red ink. Packages of chocolates and other sweets wrapped up in bright foil. These things were noticed by Augustine. Sometimes the sweet note was still held in his hand when Lysandre would discover him sleeping. The sweets were usually sampled, but never finished.

Despite these things and Lysandre continually trying to shower him with his affection, a genuine smile was becoming a rare event.

"I thought that tonight we could go out to eat."

Augustine's dull expression met his eyes, he appeared to be mulling the statement over in his head.

"I'm tired."

Even though it wasn't a direct "no" to his thought, Lysandre knew that's what it meant. Problem being was that this excuse had been used many times before. His worry only grew the longer he watched the glazed over eyes of his partner. They didn't hold the sparkle that they once held and Lysandre couldn't say that it wasn't his fault.

"Then we'll eat here." Lysandre finally responded, "I'll pick something up for both of us, how does that sound?"

Augustine only nodded and clutched his cane weakly. He rose from their table and made his way back to the waiting bed. His nest of blankets still held a divot from when he was last there. Lysandre didn't try to stop him, he only followed behind and assisted with setting his cane aside. He brought up the mound of blankets and rested his palm against Augustine's cheek.

"What can I do for you?" It was more of a rhetorical question. Augustine never responded to it. Though Lysandre wished sometimes he would, at least then he would know what to do. He was so use to Augustine always being cheerful, nothing ever seemed to bother him or put him down. He would approach disappointment with humor and simply drive himself to try again. How else could a man so young become the Kalos region pokémon professor? How could he become the very face of Mega Evolution research and the head researcher of his own lab, granted Lysandre made sure it stayed that way behind the scenes. His accomplishments in his research were always his own, however.

It gave Lysandre a small spark of joy when Augustine nuzzled into his palm. It passed when he realized that he was looking at nothing more than a shadow of his love. Lysandre was left with very few choices when he thought about it. His mind wandered to the bottle of medication that was kept in the bathroom. He still believed that it was for his own good that he take it every night. It was true that Lysandre hated to see him so tired and sluggish, but it was either that or he would watch his love steadily go insane from his delusions.  

Lysandre sighed wistfully and brought his face close to Augustine's. Their noses brushed together and for a moment he thought he saw a ghost of a smile. He pressed their lips together, hot and cold. Lysandre was so tempted to join his love in the cocoon and spend the remainder of the day trying to bring him back to life. Remind him of all their happy memories and share with him his hopes to make many more.

He had to part though, his heart tugged when Augustine made an unhappy sound when he did. Work was never over, but he figured that returning earlier than usual would be a fine compromise.

"I'll return soon." One last kiss pressed into Augustine's shoulder, "Je t'aime."

Before Lysandre stepped into the elevator he thought he heard some mumbling from the pile of blankets, he was sure that Augustine said he loved him too.

 

* * *

 

Xerosic huddled over his work space. Sparks danced across the hard black surface while he worked on what was once a holocaster. Though it was hard to tell with how many pieces he had it separated into and how he had it gutted and dispersed across the tabletop. The glossy plates that gave the holocaster its sleek design were cast aside, wire clippings dusted the surface and were simply swept out of the way and onto the floor. His surrounding space was still stacked with towers of cardboard boxes all filled with random scrap. To most it appeared to be chaos, but to the top scientist is was set up just perfect. He always knew where to look to find something that he needed. A copy of a schematic for an old project? It was shoved in a pile of papers that leaned precariously near his one sink. An extra motherboard? He could find those in the boxes surrounded by scrapped computers. The screwdriver he needed right at that moment? Nowhere to be found.

"Are you missing something?" Came the cheerful chime of a welcomed voice.

Xerosic spun around in his chair and pushed his protective goggles up on top of his head. Standing in his doorway clutching the very screwdriver he needed was Mable. She approached the workstation and pressed the tool into Xerosic's waiting hand.

"You left that behind after lunch."

The scientist tried not to look too embarrassed, "Well then your timing is impeccable as always." He glanced down at their still touching fingers and brought his other hand over and stacked it on hers.

"You look... Very wonderful today Mable." He uttered.

She smiled and brushed a strand of her blue hair out from her face. There was hardly any evidence remaining of her graphic attack that took place months ago. Some of her chest wounds were still reddened, but otherwise properly scarred. Her nose was ever so slightly crooked, but she claimed it didn't bother her. Xerosic couldn't say he really noticed that her nose was crooked at all, especially since he was too enthralled by her eyes half the time.

"You just saw me at lunch, you couldn't say it then?" Her tone was teasing.

Xerosic sighed and pulled their hands away, "I just felt like complimenting you now."

She wasn't fooled, she knew what was really going on. Lunch had been with the entire group of scientists. It was a jovial meeting. Aliana shared a batch of cookies she baked using applesauce as a base. They were spiced, tender, and would pair well with coffee or tea. Mable made sure to box some up to keep in her new residence.

It proved to be too hard to move back into her apartment after the attack. Even when everything was fixed and returned to its previous condition, she just couldn't do it. It was too large a space, too dark, and held too many negative feelings. The yellowing wallpaper no longer held any charm for her. So she finally moved into an open unit in Lysandre's Labs. It was cozy, had a nice little nook for reading and private meals, a clean kitchenette, and a decent bedroom with a connected bath.

To make things even nicer, she lived next door to Aliana. She was a close walk to Lysandre's office to run reports and requests, and she could take the elevator to visit Xerosic whenever she wanted.

"Xerosic," Mable spoke with gentleness, which made him perk up, "I know that you can be shy about certain things."

He looked like he was about to argue that accusation until glossed lips left a sparkly smudge on his cheek, "Thank you for the compliment."

"Now, what exactly are you working on?" She asked while she shifted her attention to the gutted electronic.

Xerosic snapped back to attention and lifted a single piece that contained the device's lens that projected the hologram, "That hairstylist girl dropped her holocaster in a full sink. I'm repairing it for her."

"I don't think you had to take it completely apart for that..."

"I may also be making some improvements on the initial design."

"Wait." Mable's eyes flashed to Xerosic's hair, "Did you go get your hair done?"

The top scientist ran a hand through his trimmed locks, "I may have done such a thing, how nice of you to notice."

The two joked back and forth for a while. Mable gave her assistance with fixing the holocaster. She grabbed nearby tools that were needed, spare parts from one of the many surrounding boxes, and read over the initial blueprints while Xerosic worked.

On one of the trips over to the pile of papers near the sink, the pile finally gave in and toppled onto the floor.

" Merde." She said in a hushed tone, "Sorry, I'll get this cleaned up!"

She reached down and began to shuffle the pile together when a written page caught her eye. It was formatted as though it was a letter, but she could not for the life of her read what it said.

"What is this?" She asked.

Xerosic popped off his chair and rushed to her side, slipping the paper out of her grasp, "That's nothing. Sometimes I think in my native language and write notes like that."

Mable wasn't convinced, "What does it say?"

The small page was folded and placed away into Xerosic's pocket, "Nothing interesting."

All she did was give him a look, that was all it took for his stance to crumble. The page was brought back out for viewing. Xerosic awkwardly shifted his knees on the hard floor, while he thought of where to begin.

"I guess I have a pen pal in a way."

Mable was certainly intrigued by this, she huddled closer while she traced some of the handwritten words with her nails. Trying to imagine in her head how to pronounce some of the words on the page. The only letters that really stood out to her were the couple mentions of "AZ".

"The giant?" She asked excitedly. There was something amusing to her about huddling close on the floor while speaking in hushed tones about secrets. She had to admit, Xerosic had some interesting ones. The sight gave off the illusion of two young teens trying not to be caught with their first cigarette or perhaps a filthy magazine.

Xerosic nodded sagely, "Yes, the giant. Lysandre's ancestor."

"I guess I wondered what happened to him. So he can read this?" She gestured to the letter held between them.

Again Xerosic nodded, "He can, I would be lying if I didn't say I was shocked when he first revealed that to me in Geosenge."

He went on to tell her about their meeting at the site and his assistance with Xerosic's experiments. It wasn't until much later, once Mable was fairly recovered, that he even saw the old ex-king again. It never failed to entertain him how such a tall man could move about unnoticed.

He was approached by AZ in one of the many winding alleyways, the one in particular ran extremely close to the entrance of the labs. The scientist failed in trying to contain his surprise, he never imagined AZ would risk entering the city. Despite this, the giant appeared to take the necessary percautions to prevent being seen by those he didn't wish to interact with.

The meeting was short. AZ simply asked if the device he used was still functional. It wasn't of course, just a charred pile of trash pushed into a cluttered corner. That news seemed to satisfy him and he left without so much another word.

It wasn't until another random encounter that Xerosic thought it wise to try to keep a more reliable line of communication. The set up was strange, but it worked for both men. They established a hidden drop box in the abandoned structure that once housed Cafe Introversion. It sat across the street from the Professor's old lab and seemed like a fine location to exchange letters. Especially since that end of the city was rarely traveled.

Xerosic found that AZ communicated in far more depth in writing. After about a month passed with exchanging letters, AZ began to ask more prying questions. Questions about the condition of a certain Professor. Since both men were responsible for bringing the Professor out of his near death, it didn't surprise Xerosic that the other became curious.

That had been the latest letter he recieved from AZ and what he held up with Mable was the workings of his response. When it came right down to it, he really didn't know too much about the man's health. The Professor was still weak he imagined. He explained in the letter that he only really saw the Professor in a hand full of circumstances. Ocasionally he would ask Lysandre how everything was doing, which was exclusively answered with "just fine."

After he finished explaining, Xerosic expected Mable to be slightly annoyed that he felt the need to try to hide such a thing from her, old habits. Instead she simply continued to scan the letter before asking him a question, "Could you say something to me?"

"Excuse me?"

Mable rose and finished neatly stacking the remaining pages on the counter near the sink, "Yes, you don't have to read the letter to me. Just say anything. I've only overheard you mutter it to yourself, I'd like to hear you."

The pair returned to the workstation and Xerosic pondered the request while he put the finishing touches on the repair.

"Du bist schön." He finally said curtly.

"Well that didn't sound very sweet." She joked while she helped clear the table of unnecessary scrap, "Plus I have no idea what you just said..."

Xerosic let out a nervous chuckle and distracted himself by sweeping a tiny pile of metal shavings with his single gloved hand. Mable's gaze wasn't heavy on her fellow scientist, she just waited patiently for him to speak again. After disposing of the pile onto the floor he hesitantly reached out to her and intertwined her hand in his bare one, "Fine, how about this then: Ich liebe dich." He made sure to say it with deliberate sweetness, "Liebst Du mich?" He asked while he leaned his body so his lips hovered close to her exposed ear.  They parted and whatever he just said left Mable feeling flutters of Beautifly wings in her stomach, "I know you just asked a question. What did you say?"

Xerosic paused, his mouth opened, but no words made themselves known. It wasn't as if he didn't want to translate the words to her, he just wasn't sure if she was ready to have such things said between them yet. Unfortunately the lesson, in Xerosic's opinion the true language of love, would have to be put on hold for the moment. A swift rapping at the door broke the spell he had Mable under.    

"Ah Director!" She piped up once the tall redhead came into view in the doorway.

Lysandre let himself in and maneuvered around some the miscellaneous clutter. It was easy to read that something was weighing on his mind. The lines at his brow looked to be permanently deepened from the tension. He joined the two scientists at the central work station and met their gazes.

Xerosic spoke up to end the silence, "Good afternoon Lysandre, are you hiding out from Malva again." He was almost successful at getting the Director's face to soften, but unfortunately the tension won out.

"I never hide from anyone." Came his dry response. He adjusted his collar, releasing the top most button to free his neck slightly, "I'm just troubled."

"That's obvious." Xerosic shrugged when Mable shot him an annoyed look, "I'll get you a beer."

By the time Lysandre thought to turn down the offer the open beverage was already pushed into his hand. Xerosic had one opened for himself and Mable sipped hesitantly at her own. She wasn't much of a fan of it, but since it was Xerosic's last case she appreciated the offering.

"Drink, you'll feel better."

Lysandre highly doubted that statement, but took a polite drink from the cold can. It wasn't his drink of choice, but it was strangely comforting with how it settled in his stomach. After a few more drinks from the beverage he placed the can down at a clear spot on the table.

"I was just at the hospital earlier..." He began.

"Is everything alright?" Mable asked, urging him to continue. As strange as it may have been at one time to become such a support system for her boss, she found she didn't mind it. She always respected him, it was nice to feel like they had become friends in a way. At the very least, it meant a lot to her that she was so trusted.

"I'm afraid that things could be better." Lysandre stopped himself from chewing the inside of his cheek, "May I?" He pulled out a nearly empty pack of cigarettes.

"It's your building." Xerosic pointed out, "What did the good Doctor have to say about all of this?" He lit a nearby torch for his boss to light his cigarette on.

"Just as I thought he would, he wants Augustine placed back into hospital care." He took a couple angry puffs, "He had the nerve to tell me that I'm hindering his recovery! There has to be another option, I'm not hospitalizing him again."

Mable nodded while she nursed her beer, "What does Augustine think about all of this?"

Lysandre simply paused at her question and after another silence filled moment passed he finally answered, "I really don't know to be fair. I haven't asked him. His medication makes him quite weary so I don't press him with these things."

Mable frowned slightly before she finished her drink. The thought of the Professor strung out on a mind altering drug sat poorly with her, but she didn't feel comfortable voicing that opinion. Besides, apparently he was ill and was in need of such medication for his condition. What was bothering her the most was the constant habit of keeping the Professor in the dark. At least trying to, she was certain he was painfully aware of the world around him. Mable knew that her concerns were hypocritical in a way. She was after all, a Team Flare scientist. She had her own orders that she followed without question to make sure Team Flare's goals were met. When it came right down to it, in a way she was also a cause of the Professor's unfavorable condition.

 "I think I should get back to work, I have some more requests to file. I'll leave them on your desk." She hadn't meant to sound so irritated when she spoke, but she didn't offer an apology for the tone. Once she rose,  she passed a glance over to Xerosic and made her way out of the lab. The door clicked loudly compared to the mute pair that remained.

"It appeared that this topic is upsetting to her." Lysandre mumbled between puffs of smoke.

"She is just worried I believe, don't worry about it." Xerosic took a good last swig from his can before leaving his seat to acquire another.

"Do you want to know what I really think, or do you want me to say what you want to hear?"

Lysandre let out an exaggerated huff, "I'm not in the mood..."

"Right." Xerosic opened his second can with a pop and brought his lips down on the rim to suck up the foam, "Just keep doing what you are doing, the Professor will be just fine and you'll live happily ever after."

"Xerosic..."

"Or..." He took another drink before continuing, "You allow him to go out and actually do something. Lysandre, what was he?"

Lysandre rolled his eyes, he really didn't want to play this game.

"Right, he was a Pokémon Professor. What is he now?"

"What is the point you are trying to reach?"

The scientist completely ignored the fact that Lysandre wasn't playing along and continued to act as though he was, "He is your live-in tower boyfriend, almost like a pet perhaps. It seems to me that you are afraid that if he isn't locked away or glued to your hip, he will leave."

Xerosic raised his hands up defensively, "Tell me truthfully I'm wrong and I'll take it all back."

Lysandre's lip was getting the brunt of his abuse while he listened to every agonizing word. The truth of the matter is that he couldn't completely tell Xerosic that he was wrong. He just found a way to put it into words and say it out loud, an ugly truth that Lysandre wasn't too keen on admitting.

"What do you suggest then?"

Xerosic gestured around the cluttered expanse of his lab, "No matter what I have this, I have things to do that keep me busy and content. I have the time to tinker on projects and repair broken holocasters. This keeps me sane. I'm offering the same thing for the Professor."

"What exactly?"

"Look, I'm not against the idea of having an assistant. The Professor will probably be capable, and this will give him something more to do with his time." 

Lysandre threw his used cigarette in a nearby beaker. He was strongly considering the idea, it was definitely a better option than hospitalization. Something about the suggestion still worried him though.

Xerosic sensed that he was still conflicted, "At least ask him if this would be something he would want to do." The scientist rose and placed a firm hand at Lysandre's elbow, "It couldn't hurt to ask."

They finished their drinks while Lysandre took the chance to make note of Xerosic's collection of scrap. Most of it only seemed like partly useful junk, but under some collapsed cardboard stuffed near his sleeping cot was something that piqued his interest. Upon investigation he found that the object in question was an old record player. It was small and had a scuffed wooden finish, the internal parts looked to be intact though. The thin wire used to power it had seen better days, but it wasn't destroyed. 

"Does this record player work?" He finally asked.

Xerosic coughed and cleared his throat before joining his side. He bent over and lifted the player out of its cardboard dwelling. Carefully he turned the device in his hands, "I don't see why not, though..."

He placed it down on his cot and stepped behind it to dig into some more boxes, "You need something to play on it."

Victoriously, he lifted a duct tape bound box over his head, "Let's see if I have anything to your standards."

He sat down on the floor, Lysandre knelt next to him. He watched his scientist thumb through each record, occasionally stopping and chuckling to himself when a memory of his youth struck him.

"None of my records are Kalosian, hope you don't mind."

As more records were flipped through it became apparent how much of a collector Xerosic had been at one time. By the looks of it, most of the collection must have been obtained during his travels in Unova when he was a teen. A fact that Lysandre was a bit ashamed for not knowing sooner.

"I haven't listened to these in years!" The first record was claimed and placed on the platter, Lysandre got a quick look at the sleeve before it was thrown back into the box.

"Iggy Pop?" He raised an eyebrow at the strange selection.

Xerosic plugged in the player while it continued to rest on his cot, "Don't judge, the music was pretty good back in the day."

It was in moments like this that Xerosic was reminded that he was quite a bit older than his boss. A fact he typically chose to ignore when Lysandre felt the need to bark orders, thankfully that wasn't much of a thing anymore.

To the scientist's relief the record player came to life and soon memories of his teen years spent in Unova came flooding back to him. Nights spent with fake ID's used to get into clubs and bars. He was a young man with hardly a care in the world, a heavy accent that made it hard for the locals to understand him, and a huge thirst for whatever beer was on tap.

Xerosic was already digging back into the box before the first song even ended and soon fished out another favorite.

"I use to listen to the Ramones all the time." He announced before switching the records.

Lysandre hadn't been too fond of the first selection and he certainly wasn't fond of the next one. Especially when his top scientist started to sing along like he was performing at a karaoke bar.

"Today your love, tomorrow the world!"

The amount of enthusiasm was entertaining to watch, Lysandre couldn't deny that. He wasn't all that impressed with Xerosic's taste of music however.   

"Do you have anything soft?" He finally asked, hoping to whoever would listen that his scientist had something that would be more suited for a quiet evening.

Xerosic thought for a moment before collecting one record in particular. It was one of the few that still had a nearly pristine sleeve protecting the vinyl.

"I think that this is what you're looking for. I think the song Time in a Bottle will be a good pick."

Xerosic brushed off the player some more and handed it over to his boss after unplugging it, the record was layered on top. Whereas the device was a bit bulky for most people to hull around, Lysandre looked like he would have no problem.

"Let me get the door for you."

Both men stood out in the empty hallway overlooking the elevator that Lysandre would use to surface.

"Thank you." He spoke with sincerity, "I will ask him if he wishes to assist you, I'll keep you posted." Before he entered the elevator with his prize in tow he spoke again, "Tell Mable I'm sorry for making her uncomfortable."

Xerosic gave him a small smile, "I will Director, take care."

Once the doors closed the scientist pulled out the letter he had stuffed into his pocket earlier. It looked like he finally had more information to share with his pen pal. First though, he needed to go find Mable, she would want to know how the conversation went.

 

* * *

 

Lysandre made quick work of returning to the Prism Tower. The decorated wooden doors slid open into his living quarters, ushering him into the cave like darkness. The lights were off and the curtains were pulled shut. This left the space in a hazy red glow, caused by light that tried to invade through the fabric.

With a quick scan, Lysandre assumed that Augustine was sleeping. He would find him tucked away like a little present in the center of a nest of covers. Sure enough, he saw a promising mound on the center of the bed.

He made no move to disturb the sleeping man just yet. As quietly as he could manage he placed the record player down on a desk near one of the tall windows and pulled the cord down to plug the player into the wall socket. The record was slipped out of its sleeve and placed on the platter. Lysandre peeked back over at the still mass on the bed before he pushed the tonearm over and let the stylus rest where it needed to. He didn't power it on however, Augustine needed to be woken up first.

Over at the bed, Lysandre sat down and placed a hand on the top of the pile. He was confused when his palm sank in a bit too easily.

"Augustine?"

He dug into the covers only to discover that the Professor wasn't curled up inside. Lysandre bit his lip and traveled to the next possible location. The door to the connected bath was shut. So he was using the bathroom, that wasn't a big deal. Politely he knocked on the door, "Augustine? I've returned. When you get out I have something to ask you and something I believe will interest you..."

No response.

Slowly the door was cracked open so he could peek inside, the light wasn't even on. Flicking it on only proved what he already knew, Augustine wasn't in there either.

After some quick thought, Lysandre knew that it was entirely possible that he was in his office one level lower. He usually skipped passed it when he made his final trip to the tower. So he traveled down to it, but once the doors opened he quickly learned that Augustine wasn't in the office.

Now Lysandre was stumped. Stumped and a bit worried. He racked his brain trying to come up with a possible area that Augustine could be, then it hit him. Pained him actually when the thought sank in.

_"He's at the observation platform."_

He knew it wasn't the most rational feeling to be so afraid of his partner standing at the top of the tower, but panic didn't need permission to invade. The button to take the elevator to the top was punched in. Each second he spent in the tiny box felt dragged out. No matter what he told himself while the elevator ascended, the tightness gripping his chest refused to release. His panic made grisly connections in his head. The fact that Augustine hadn't been eating as much, that he didn't want to get out of bed, that he seemed so disconnected. All of it screamed in his mind that he had to get to the top of the tower, stop him from doing something horrible.

Once the doors finally released him from the suffocating cage, he practically flew from its confines. He was expecting to see Augustine looming over the edge of the railing, ready to reenact a gut retching scene that could only play out in the worse of his nightmares.

Instead, he ran forward and clutched the railing until his palms and fingers ached. His breathing made no attempt at regulating, even when he heard his named called. His head whirled around to face the source of the siren call and his heart shuttered before working on a normal beat.

There was Augustine, sitting at one of the benches. His back leaned against the wall while his head lazed over into the fur neckline of Lysandre's favorite jacket. He had it draped across his shoulders like a makeshift blanket, which had been its purpose a few times in the past. He pulled at the jacket's opening to bring it closer to his body. Lysandre had to admit that he found the sight comforting, even though his guts still continued to twist from his earlier fear.

There was enough room on the chilled metalwork bench for Lysandre to scoot next to Augustine. His arm hovered briefly before he wrapped it around his partner's shoulder and brought him in close. Neither said anything right away. The way Lysandre's heart thudded in his chest, though calmer than before, he was sure Augustine could hear it. Especially with his ear pressed close to his rib cage.

"What are you doing up here?" He asked in as steady of a voice as he could muster. He didn't want to admit that he was scared before. That he allowed his paranoia to take over, convince him that he was about to lose his love in some grisly end. This was ignoring the fact that Augustine wasn't like that, he would never see fit to throw his life away for any reason. At least that was what Lysandre used to believe, but such thoughts were never a concern before.

Augustine tilted his head up so their eyes could meet, "I sit up here sometimes..." His voice trailed. He continued before Lysandre could speak again, "I've heard that vitamin D is good for..." He didn't finish the statement.

He didn't have to, Lysandre knew what he was going to say. Depression, he couldn't deny that Augustine acted like he had some form of it. A side effect of the medication he was on? Perhaps, he brooded about the new world and that got to him. It was probably both when he really thought about it. None of it sat well with Lysandre, he had hoped that with passing time he would see Augustine grow content with his new life. It was still fresh though, the workings of the society were a daily task for the Flare Leader. So many things had to be modified to accompany the status of his new world. Things that honestly, he may have overlooked in his original plans.  

His other arm joined and brought the smaller man into a cradling embrace. It was a reflex. Not so much for Augustine's comfort. No, it was definitely more for Lysandre than anyone else.

"I have something to show you." He whispered while his face nestled into Augustine's loose curls.

The other nodded haltingly before he was freed to stand, with little help, to his sock covered feet. Lysandre thought to scold him for stepping outdoors without any shoes, but held his tongue. Instead he held out his arm in a welcoming manner and was pleased when Augustine didn't hesitate. His other hand gripped his simple cane possessively while he was lead back to the elevator.

This time the space felt much less suffocating and once they stepped back out into the living quarters, Lysandre completely disregarded his earlier panic attack. Their arms only disconnected so the curtains could be thrown back to lighten the dark space. Augustine quickly took note of the record player on the desk once the light cast across it. He sat at the office chair and carefully, as though he feared the player would break from his fingertips, glossed his touch over the weathered wooden edge. He brought the cardboard sleeve up and frowned as he looked upon it.

"What's wrong?" Lysandre asked, a bit concerned at what he may respond with.

"I have no idea what this says." Augustine continued to stare and twist the cover in his grasp, as though another angle would give him some insight.

Lysandre almost wanted to laugh, almost. He knew that Augustine wasn't as well versed as he was with other languages. It was something he tried to get him to alleviate. How he managed to run conferences with other researchers from around the globe was beyond him. Augustine would simply retort that translators needed work too. It wasn't that he was incapable, he just never had as many reasons to learn other languages. Apparently, he managed to communicate with his old mentor, Professor Rowan, just fine when he was in Sinnoh. Though, Lysandre knew well enough that Rowan could speak Kalosian.

"Don't worry about it." Lysandre said gently, while guiding Augustine's hands to place the cover on the table, "I've been told that it's very good."

After making sure everything was still in place, he clicked the record on. The distinct crackle from the needle traveling over the vinyl's surface filled their ears. There was something about the sound that was strangely relaxing.

Lysandre offered his hands out to Augustine who looked a bit perplexed. He peered over at his waiting cane and looked to be pondering whether or not to grab it.

"You won't be needing that mon cher. Please, dance with me?"

A charming, yet slightly haunting, twang from a guitar reverberated from the record player. Once the soft voice of the singer paired with the gentle strumming of the instrument, Augustine finally rose to his feet and swept into Lysandre's hold.

Augustine's waist was held with care, his hand enveloped in Lysandre's while he gently swayed their bodies to the melody. The music continued to guide their rhythm across the glossy floor. The soft pastel sky reflected each shade of pale pink and violet across its surface. They soon molded together, Augustine settling his head against Lysandre's calmly rising and falling chest. The jacket had long since been abandoned at the chair, leaving less fabric between the lovingly caressing hand massaging the Professor's back.

Augustine's voice hummed along to the music, despite not knowing the words or the meaning of the beautiful tune. When the song ended it was quickly started again and this time Lysandre sang along in a hushed tone. Just loud enough to give his lover an intimate serenade. Their movements became more confident and fluid as the song continued and on the third replay Augustine attempted a few lines. His accent made it difficult, but his voice was well suited for tender singing. If Lysandre was asked at that moment, he would have said it was the most beautiful voice in the world.

_"My beautiful song bird."_

 It was almost a shame to silence such a voice, but Lysandre could no longer help himself. He dipped his singing partner with well trained grace and grazed his lips across his own. Taken up by the moment, Augustine lifted his free hand and anchored it behind Lysandre's head so he could pull the kiss closer. He moved his lips around Lysandre's lower one, while hands from both tangled into hair and cupped into the side of their lover's flushed face.  

After being lifted back upright the pair continued to sway their hips, their lips now moving with the song. Slow and delicate. Their mouths would part only bare centimeters from one another and they would draw in heavy breaths before the distance was once again closed.

Before the song came to an end one last time, Lysandre brought his mouth to Augustine's ear and sang the last line, "...You're the one I want to go through time with..."

Once the final twangs of the guitar concluded, Augustine's ear was kissed. He sighed happily when he felt Lysandre's beard tickle his neck. The record player was switched off. The outside light had since faded, only the twinkling street lamps decorated the city below. A few small Durant-like citizens could still be seen wandering the plaza. It would only be about an hour before they would need to shut themselves away in their homes, none wished to be caught out past curfew.

The soft glow from a colorful stained glass table lamp brightened the pair of pleased faces. Lysandre began to pull the curtains shut to drown out the artificial light that radiated from below. Closed away from the world, his world, it felt nice to have it just be him and Augustine. It was even sweeter now that he could see him smile again. Hopefully, he would be able to enjoy it for a bit longer.

Of course even if he wished it, even if he demanded it like he demanded many things, that didn't mean that he would get what he wanted. Augustine began to slip away from him again and once the two men started their routine for bed, his wall firmly returned. They sat together at the edge of the mattress, Lysandre rubbed tiny circles into Augustine's back while he slowly swirled a glass of water in his cupped hands.

There was a sudden urge to say how sorry he was when Lysandre watched his partner eye the tiny pill waiting on the nightstand. His mouth hovered just at the back of Augustine's exposed neck. The skin was decorated with slow, almost desperate, kisses as the Team Flare leader thought of the words to say, but couldn't voice.

It was a strange sort of guilt that settled in his chest. It wasn't a doubt in any way of what he had done to the world, that he still felt strongly of. It was hard to place, but he knew that he felt sorry for causing Augustine pain. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him, but somehow he knew that it was unavoidable. It was a continued problem really, he wanted to apologize to the man, but couldn't find the words. He wasn't sorry for going through with his plan, he couldn't say he wouldn't do it again if given the chance. All he could do was offer his silent apologies and hope they would be enough.

 He just continued to rub his back while the pill was collected and finally chased with a good gulp of water. The glass was set aside and Augustine reclined into the touches until Lysandre was forced to move his arms and drape them around the other. He pulled him under the covers and the two continued to hold each other in the still darkness of the room.

"Where did you get the record player from?" Came the muted voice of the Professor. His hair was brushed back while Lysandre peered down at him, his arms wrapped snugly around his shoulders.

"I got it from my scientist, Xerosic. He has an extensive collection, you should ask him about it when you see him."

Augustine didn't respond right away, but when he did, he sounded confused, "When will I be seeing him?"

Lysandre ran his fingers lovingly down his sides while he spoke, "I thought that it would be a good idea for you to help out in the labs starting tomorrow."

There wasn't an answer right away, just the slow release of a breath accompanied with the gentle drumming of fingers. Even with the sleep haze beginning to take hold, Augustine still caught that Lysandre didn't phrase his comment like a question. I was a more of a suggestion or a request, a demand?

Maybe it would do him some good to get out and mingle. Actually, Augustine knew that it would. The more he thought about it, the more he perked up. How nice it would be to have something to do, something to keep him busy.

Augustine didn't know Xerosic personally. All he knew of the man was that he was the Team Flare top scientist, he seemed nice enough, though he never really talked to him directly. Normally he would be eager to chat up a new acquaintance, but that was the old him.

He continued to lounge against Lysandre while his sides tingled from the continued touches. The comforters were snuggled up to his scruffy chin. It was warm and comfortable, he was ready to drift off to sleep. The medication was casting its fog over his mind.

"I'll go to the lab tomorrow." Came the eventual reply.

Lysandre simply grunted in response, he had fallen asleep. He wasn't waiting for an answer.

The Professor soon also succumbed to his own artificial weariness, but sleep was never completely calm. Thoughts bloomed and faded quickly, beaten down by the fog that rolled in thick to keep him subdued. Sometimes flashes of things like dreams, or perhaps they were memories, trickled in and danced in the front most portion of his mind. Hazy images paired with hushed voices.

The mention of his name from a familiar, yet unnamed source would whisper in his ear. Any movements he made in his slumber caused arms to tighten around his core. This briefly pulled him back from chasing the whispers and reminded him where he was, he was still in Lysandre's world.

The night was quiet as always to Lysandre's ears, but this silence wasn't felt by his partner. No, to Augustine there was always noise. Though gagged by his medication, his thoughts continued to wage on. Wave after wave would assault his barrier until one finally pushed through, _"Why didn't you stop him?"_

In a way he was thankful for the cloud that filled his head. Once the final bits of the pill absorbed into his body, the haze fully settled into his heavy limbs. No more thoughts could break through, he was at peace.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't like my typical song list. These are some somes that were used for the chapter. 
> 
> Lysandre and Augustine's dance: Time in a Bottle-Jim Croce
> 
> Xerosic's musical taste:
> 
> Nightclubbing-Iggy Pop
> 
> Today your Love, Tomorrow the World-Ramones


	11. White Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a scene depicting physical abuse.

The lab was peaceful, save the slight tweaking of metal and hisses from spraying sparks. They bounced across the surface before the tiny glints were snuffed out by the surrounding air. Little specks of light with hardly a lifespan, gone as soon as created.

Xerosic wiped his damp brow that had accumulated a generous amount of moisture and took a good chug of a nearby beaker of water. He grimaced and hesitated when the thought hit him that he may have drank out of the dingy one by mistake.

Nope, he was safe for now. The grime filled glass was beginning to produce its own ecosystem. He thought it best to move the offensive beaker out of his reach to prevent any mishaps. The dishes really needed to be done, though he had a certain assistant that would most likely take it upon himself to do them.

Augustine, as though summoned, strode into the laboratory with his cane in hand. A crisp lab coat was collected from a hanger near the door. He took a moment to smooth out the lapels with some pride and joined his fellow at the workstation.

It had been a strange arrangement, Xerosic had to admit that he was surprised that he showed up the first day to begin work. He didn't show alone of course, Lysandre was by his side. The top scientist made sure to bite his tongue as he watched his boss fuss over his partner.

_"Seriously, the Professor isn't a child."_

The fussing finally came to an end when Xerosic offered his new assistant a lab coat to wear. He wasn't about to let the Professor not look the part.

"Sorry if it is a little on the large side." It was the smallest one he could find stuffed away, he was sure with time he could get one with a better fit.

Lysandre assisted with slipping the sleeves over Augustine's arms and shoulders. It really was too large for him, the fit was nothing compared to his old lab coats. The collar was limp and the sleeves a tad too long, but the effect was still there.

The Professor's face lit up ever so slightly while he worked to roll the sleeves up past his elbows. The subtle spark in his eyes didn't last for long and soon he was back to his dull expression. Lysandre planted his hands stiffly on Augustine's shoulders, his thumbs worked tight circles into his shoulder blades. Xerosic wasn't sure if his boss wanted some form of assurance before he left, but thankfully it wasn't needed. He left after a couple more moments of fussing, one last kiss on his partner's palm, he was off to take care of his duties as leader.

This left the scientist alone with the ex-Pokémon Professor finally, but now that they were he was a bit unsure how to proceed. He wasn't displeased in anyway, if anything seeing the Professor out and about was a comforting sight. Mable was rubbing off on him, he actually cared.

Of course why wouldn't the scientist care? Professor Sycamore was after all the embodiment of his greatest successful experiment.

"Good morning Professor," He chanted out in a singsong voice, " You're bright and early."

Xerosic didn't even look up as he spoke from his work station, he just continued to tweak the device he was working on. Apparently his last repair on a holocaster went over so well, that everyone now wanted an upgrade. It was flattering, but this also caused Xerosic to be far busier than he wished to be. Thank Arceus that he had an assistant.

Speaking of his assistant, Augustine immediately gathered up any dirty glassware that he could find, including the dingy one that had been eluding him for some time, and dumped them into the sink. It was soon filled with warm soapy water and Xerosic tried not to openly snicker. The Professor didn't even hesitate that time. It would only be a matter of time before the man had the entirety of the lab as clean and neat as the day Xerosic first moved in.

"Good morning mon ami!" Augustine finally chimed back, reaching for a towel to dry his hands. Another glass beaker was collected off the floor, he almost forgot one. It soon joined the rest in the sink with a splash.

"What is it that we are going to be working on today?" The man truly sounded eager when he spoke.

Finally Xerosic looked up from his handy work and gestured both arms across the length of the table. Upon it were various different holocasters of different colors and models. Each had a simple paper tag taped to some part of its surface with the scrawled out name of its owner.

The Professor finished with the few washings and joined the scientist next to him at the table.

"Is everyone breaking their devices lately?" It was a joking tone he held, the Professor knew what answer he would receive.

"No." Xerosic raised his palms up and rubbed the skin around his goggles, "No, they aren't Professor."

Augustine chucked, a bit at his fellow's expense, but it didn't come across as mocking. Oh no, it was a very warm and cordial. Xerosic noticed that in the few weeks that he had been working in the labs with him, there was a substantial change in the man's mood.

It was like looking at a completely new person with how the Professor held himself compared to only a few weeks ago. The first week had been hard, awkward really. Xerosic wasn't completely prepared, nor possessed the experience to deal with someone in such a state. He observed that the Professor was tired and hard to focus. It was obvious that he appeared to drift off elsewhere, crawl deep into his haze and shutout everything around him.

 Sometimes he'd leave tasks incomplete and simply rest in his chair, fiddle with scrap that had yet to be disposed of. It was better than him tearing at his cuticles. If the man had nice hands at one time, Xerosic would never know. It wasn't that he didn't try to take part in the lab work, he certainly tried. It just seemed to exhaust him further.

Xerosic exercised his patience with his boss's lover, not an easy task. He just had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't the Professor's fault for his attitude. Though patience still wasn't the scientist's strongest trait, he tried. He would make the effort to engage the Professor in conversation, pick his brain a bit. The man retained too much of a wall with each try. It was like scaling a rocky face with no sign of the peak. The scientist would climb, but he would never get any higher. No progress could be made at the rate he was going. This really wasn't the famous Augustine Sycamore whose research reports Xerosic once enjoyed reading. This man was but a shell, but who could blame him? He lost everything that gave him the title Professor.

 It was in the next week that he enlisted the help of Mable. She was more than happy to come down to keep Augustine company. She couldn't hide the fact that the Professor's state bothered her though. It bothered her further having talked to him before the recent change gripped him. Though with hindsight, it occurred to her that Augustine may have been sparing her his grief. Even with the fact her and the Professor conversed before, she also found it difficult to permeate the wall he built around himself. Her patience won out eventually and soon the Professor opened up and engaged in conversation.

The two would sit off in one of the clearer corners and chat while they sat knee to knee in folded chairs. If Xerosic didn't know any better he almost would have been jealous. He knew better though, and he was happy to have someone a bit more sensitive involved. It was in this second week that the shift began to happen. Augustine would ask more questions, seemed less tired with tasks, and was looser and more open with his speech.

 Eventually Lysandre didn't even walk him down to the lab anymore. He would arrive looking quite cheerful and always wish the scientist a good morning. They soon grew past work specific topics and moved on to topics that served little purpose other than to entertain. Xerosic would say that the man was a joy to be around now that his mood had shifted for the better. Of course once they started up on the subject of musical taste, the two men became fast friends.

"Tell me about the band you were in." Augustine prodded while he placed another modified holocaster into a nearby bin, "You were the singer?"

Xerosic puffed out his chest and flashed a wicked grin, "Do you not believe me, Professor?"

"Ha ha, non! I didn't mean it like that..." Augustine trailed for a moment, his gaze shifted off behind Xerosic before settling back on the conversation, "Why did you break it up?"

"Oh, mainly because we sounded like a thousand screeching Magnemites! Oh and my drummer ran off with my girlfriend..."

Augustine really tried not to, but he snorted, he snorted while he leaned himself steady on his cane and continued to hold back his laugh.

Xerosic was not amused.

"I swear I'll push you over if you don't pull it together." He really failed in sounding convincing.

The Professor took a couple calming breaths, "Now, now, you wouldn't push a guy with a cane."

"Yeah you're right I wouldn't, I'll wait until you don't have it and push you then." Again, he failed in sounding convincing. Especially when his speech merged with his own fit of laughter. The Professor's snorting was too much!

The atmosphere in the room remained cheerful, both men continued to tease and joke while they worked. Xerosic would hand the newly modified device to the Professor and he would reattach the face plates and sort it away into the nearby bin. The two found a good rhythm and worked quite well together. At the rate they were going at the two men would be able to make a couple deliveries before the day ended. Which was Augustine's favorite part of the job really. He had no complaints of working in the lab, but it felt nice to get out and stretch his legs.

Augustine was quick to grasp new tasks once his focus returned. It really was too bad that Lysandre was never able to recruit him, he would have made a hell of a scientist in their ranks. That meant little now, he was there and working in the labs. He might as well have been recruited, even though it was by circumstance and not by choice.

Xerosic felt a slight bout of guilt for his true motive of requesting the Professor to be placed with him. It wasn't as though he lied when he said that he thought the placement would help his mood, the evidence was overwhelming. Truth was he wanted the chance to observe the Professor closely and frankly, without Lysandre's influence.

There was still something that continued to puzzle him. Well he became puzzled once he managed to, for lack of a better term, trick the Professor into giving him another scan. His reading made sense to him back when Augustine was basically a corpse. His radiation levels matched the rest of the weapon's victims and that matched up with Xerosic's original hypothesis.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Professor, if you would be so kind."

Xerosic handed the radio-like end of his Geiger counter to Augustine's waiting hands, making sure he could clearly see the readout. He quickly ran the tube across his assistant's torso and compared the numbers to the ones he still had memorized.

"What?" He whispered.

Augustine placed the end of the device he held on the nearby counter, "What are you looking for?"

Xerosic paused, he wasn't sure if he wanted to share what information he had just gathered. He was still trying to process what it could possibly mean, Augustine's radiation levels remained unchanged. Yet, there he was alive and well.

"That damn thing is broken, thank you for helping me test it."

"Of course! Anytime!"

Normally such things wouldn't faze Xerosic, but holding information from someone so cheerful and eager to assist felt like a damned sin.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

He shared this strange discovery with his pen pal and also made sure to discuss it with Mable one evening. They were sitting together in her new apartment, sipping tea and sampling another successful batch of cookies that Aliana baked earlier.   

"So what does Augustine think?" She asked after blowing at the rising steam of her paisley printed teacup.

"I haven't discussed this with him..." Xerosic paused when he saw a familiar look twist on Mable's face.

She was calm while she placed her cup on a nearby coaster, her hand was placed carefully on her guest's knee, "You and Lysandre are so alike."

That was all she said, but it was all she needed to say. Xerosic understood what she meant.

"I'll talk to him about it tomorrow, I promise."

Mable acted as though she was pleased with this and retrieved her teacup. Xerosic awkwardly scanned her red walls, his lips suctioned against the rim of his own cup. He couldn't help but note that Mable's hand had yet to move from his knee, she even occasionally squeezed it. Xerosic really wasn't in a rush for her hand to move.

He helped himself to a couple more cookies. They really did taste delicious paired with the tea.

"Is this green mixed with mint?" He asked casually.

"Non, white pine, you are correct on the mint though."

"Strange." He took another sip, "I'm not much of a tea drinker, but this is pretty good."

How nice it was to sleep in a regular bed. Much nicer than a cramped cot or a bed with an assaulting spring that poked his backside. The company that was sharing the space certainly wasn't being ignored. Once sleep was achieved, Xerosic lay central on the springy pillow top mattress with Mable snoozing close to his side. Her head rested on her sleep partner's chest, one of her legs hooked around his. It may not have seemed so, but they were comfortable. Mable would never say it, Xerosic would be too embarrassed, but she was glad that he was so comfortable. He was like a large stuffed Teddiursa.

Morning came and Xerosic woke up alone, Mable was already starting her day. He washed himself up and changed, he took care not to leave a mess behind. When he wandered out into the living area he noticed a note taped to a serving tray at Mable's breakfast nook. He recognized the curvy way she wrote the _s_ in his name. Sitting at the tiny table, he lifted the tray to find a generous spread. Sweet pecha, he was glad that they were finally coming into season. He was also quite partial to cheri berries, they were also common that time of year.

Xerosic helped himself to some homemade herbed bread, it was a tad heavy on the thyme sprigs. A couple of the juicy pink berries were brought up and consumed, the juice ran down his chin. He flipped open the note that was left for him.

_"Good morning sleepyhead, help yourself to breakfast and to some juice in the fridge. I'll see you later on in the day."_

_~Mable~_

A cutesy doodled heart followed her name. The scientist couldn't help but smile, that was just enough to brighten his day. He worked on the remainder of his meal and made sure to clear the table afterwards. The note was folded into his breast pocket, his padded it fondly.

Another day in the lab, but this time Augustine was the first one in that day. Xerosic slid in past his door and stayed quiet. The Professor was whistling a tune while organizing the stack of paper that had no place near the sink. A few boxes were already set aside and neatly shut. All had labels stuck to their sides detailing what lie within in neat handwriting.

It was impressive really how one man could tackle such clutter with little to no issue.

"Now where would he like these I wonder?" Augustine said seemingly to himself.

Xerosic raised an eyebrow and continued to observe the Professor while he appeared to be waiting for some sort of answer from an invisible source.

"Over there? Yes, I believe that will work." He turned with the stack of papers held in his free hand. That was when he became aware of Xerosic's presence in the lab.

"Bonjour, Xerosic!" Came his welcoming voice.

"Good morning Professor. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful, thank you!" He enthusiastically responded.

"That's wonderful to hear, let me help you with that." The scientist reached out and took the stack into his own grasp, "Where was this going?"

Augustine pointed to some counter space that had been previously cleared. Xerosic didn't feel the need to ask the Professor why he was talking to himself earlier. The man was a well known eccentric, he probably talked to himself to work out his thoughts. Xerosic wasn't one to judge.

The Professor had already ate a filling breakfast before he left the tower. While both men now worked to clear another space of clutter, it was something to keep busy, Augustine chatted on and on about his walk over to the labs.

"It's actually really mild today. Even though it is so early, I saw a lot of people out walking the sidewalks."

Xerosic nodded along and made sure to collect anything that the Professor was having trouble with carrying. Even with a cane in hand he could move circles around the shorter scientist. Surely he really didn't need his cane anymore. Yet, he continued to cling on to it as though he would topple over without it. He supposed he would if he didn't use it.

Augustine held a damp rag while he wiped down the central work station, "Some children were walking together. I believe they were going to the academy..." It was obvious that there was more he had wished to add, but he cut it short.

Xerosic placed a box back near his feet and looked over at the dingy table top. Augustine just suddenly stopped talking. He stood still like a statue, rag and cane still held in hand. The scientist tentatively crossed the lab to join his assistant, "Professor?"

The rag was left in a sodden pile, Augustine pinched the bridge of his nose and took a couple shaky breaths. Was he about to cry? Xerosic couldn't tell. Should he call Lysandre? No, Mable would be a far better option.

No tears fell and the Professor's face met that of his companion's. His voice held a bit of pain still while he spoke, "Sorry, I just had a thought."

The scientist was still a bit unsure how to proceed, but reached over and draped an arm over sunken shoulders. He lead his assistant down to sit at one of the folded chairs left at the table, Xerosic took the other. Maybe it wasn't the best time to bring up the subject, but Xerosic thought that it was time to have a real conversation. The act of pleasantry was just that, an act. With this slight crack in the Professor's wall maybe he could find out what he really thought, he already had a few hypotheses.

"How about we take it easy today, we finished all the holocasters yesterday anyway. My clutter isn't going anywhere."

The last part of his statement caused a bit of a smile in the other, "What is bothering you? Don't try to say nothing, I won't be fooled."

Augustine shifted in his seat and fiddled with his coat sleeve, his gaze cast over the slightly ajar door to the lab. Xerosic instinctively got up to close it and returned to his seat by the other man.

After another bout of uncomfortable silence Augustine finally shared his earlier thought, "How much do the children know I wonder?" He began with slow cautious speech, "Do they understand how much in the world has changed? They all greeted me as 'Professor Sycamore'. Do they understand that on their tenth birthday I'll never be able to give them a starter of their choice?"

It was amazing how a simple switch in tone and mannerism could age someone. It was suddenly believable that the Professor was closer to forty than thirty. Without his bright cheerful expression, the early signs of age found a way to creep in around his eyes and mouth. The stress his body underwent and his long recovery process did nothing to prevent the weathering of his skin. Xerosic was listening to his companion's words, he really was, but this line of rhetorical questions prompted a question of his own.

"How much do you understand?"

Augustine actually looked offended by the question. His eyes hardened and knuckles clenched against the table edge, an unexpected sight from a man like Professor Sycamore. The scientist quickly added, "I'm just asking. From my perspective it appeared like you were in denial, you never spoke of anything like this until now. At least not that I've heard."

The Professor's answer was a bit cutting regardless, "I couldn't think about anything before! Merde, that medication made it impossible to focus!" Upon realizing what he just implied Augustine's mouth went firmly shut.

"That explains your mood shift." Xerosic couldn't help himself, his wicked grin had returned. "You just up and quit taking it!" He laughed while bracing himself in his worse-for-wear chair, "Who knew you had it in you."

Augustine became mute, he was quite done with sharing at the moment. His eyes darted around nervously like a Deerling being stalked by a large predator, a Pyroar perhaps?   

"It's not my business if you aren't taking your medication, I'm not going to run off and tattle to Lysandre about it." Xerosic waited to see if Augustine would say any more, he didn't.

"You know, you still didn't answer my question." The scientist tried to speak in a comforting tone, "How about I ask one, then you get to ask one?"

Augustine didn't seem that keen on the idea, but chose to address the question regardless, "I know what Lysandre did. I understand that people died and all the pokémon were wiped out..." He didn't mumble out his speech, but he was certainly speaking in a deliberate low tone. The two men had to lean in closer so they could continue to hear each other clearly.

"How does that make you feel?" Xerosic almost wanted to kick himself for sounding so much like a Psychiatrist.

The Professor shook his head, "That wasn't the deal, I get to ask one now. I'm still thinking." Augustine made a bit of a show to look like he was deep in thought. Xerosic couldn't even be annoyed by it. He was right, that was the deal.

"Why did you join Team Flare?" He finally asked.

It wasn't the type of question that Xerosic was expecting, but at least the conversation could continue, "He asked, I said yes. There wasn't really a reason other than it gave me something to do."

Augustine gave him a look of disbelief. He blew a chunk of hair out of his face, leaned back in his chair and twirled his cane against the tiled floor.

"What do you want from me? That's the essentials!  I'm not going to give you a whole book about it!"

The Professor's line of sight shifted past the large scientist and hovered for a while before settling back, "I guess I was expecting more. Lysandre made the whole thing seem more driven and full of members as passionate as himself."

Xerosic held back a chuckle, "Trust me, nobody is as passionate as him. I'm not a good sample of the typical Team Flare member. You should ask one of the other scientists. They could give you a much more in depth answer."

Without being too mocking, Xerosic put on his best Mable voice, "I joined for his powerful message and vision to make the world a better place. I knew this was my calling when I first heard him speak about the importance of a global effort to enhance the cooperation of our world..."

He ceased his tasteless teasing when Augustine's expression turned south, "Do you think Lysandre is a good man?"

Now Xerosic knew it was his turn to ask a question, but he thought he could let it slide at the moment. He made sure to put a great deal of thought into his answer, he didn't want to tell the Professor a lie.

"I think he really tries to be, but it doesn't always come across as such. He makes mistakes, but is horrid at admitting them." The scientist scanned his assistant's face to make sure that answer satisfied.

It appeared like it had for the most part, though Augustine's expression spoke volumes to the man sitting next to him. His mind looked like it was working endlessly to sort out various complex emotions that really could find no true home in the ever growing labyrinth in his head.  "You had another question?" He said, finally bringing himself out of the maze to rejoin the conversation.

"I do, but..." Xerosic had many questions he could ask, but he chose to disregard them in favor of something else, "I actually have something I should have brought up awhile ago. Do you remember anything when you were in your coma?"

Augustine's eyes were facing the scientist, but Xerosic could tell he was looking past him again. This time his gaze held for longer and his mouth twitched, then he returned and offered an answer.

"It felt like a dream." He chuckled lightly, making more of the noise than actually laughing, "That's probably not a very good answer is it?"

"There wasn't really a wrong answer to be fair." Xerosic felt some hair raise on the back of his neck and an uneasy feeling hit him, but it was fleeting. He followed Augustine's line of sight when it shifted again, nothing but more stacked clutter at the far wall.

"You understand what happened to you?" Xerosic was cautious, he was still concerned that the Professor would shut back down. He was trying to make progress with the conversation.  

"I died." came the response, so quick in fact that Xerosic had a hard time processing it.

He really didn't know how to respond. It wasn't as though the Professor had actually died, no he was only halfway in the grave. Held is a sort of status like a pokémon in a ball, kept from the brink with the many surrounding life supporting devices. It was almost Fairy tale really, not like the cheapened versions animated for Unova children. The Grimm versions filled with less romantic views of princesses and kings. Stories that detailed torture and death, such of which reminded readers of the dark truths of ancient ways.   

"I felt my death, or what I thought was my death. It was painful, nearly unbearable." His arms shook as the words left his mouth. Muscles tensing as though they cried out at the memory, not wanting to experience the pain again.

Again Xerosic didn't know how to respond. It appeared that the Professor knew quite well what had happened to him. He leaned back in his chair, it creaked under his weight.

"You were exposed to the beam of the weapon, but you were partially spared. I helped bring you back to life..."

At this, the Professor looked at him quite intently, "How did you manage such a feat?" He paused and rose to pace in a clear space in the room, "I remember seeing the tower. I walked to it and saw what I recognized as my body. The next thing I recall I woke up. Lysandre was holding me and I felt so tired and weak."

Xerosic joined him in pacing, handing him his cane so he didn't have to keep running his hand over the table. Half the room was far cleaner than the other, Augustine kept a steady pace of clearing north to south. In the southern end was where Xerosic hid it. He didn't really have to hide it, the charred remains of Lysandre's machine, but he made sure it stayed out of sight.

Now was the time that everything needed to be known. He swiftly kicked a mixed pile of rubbish off the old duffle bag that held the remains. Lysandre's own "Sleeping Beauty" wasn't brought back with a kiss. Such stories only saw fit to dazzle children with a warped version of love. It was through months of trial and error that the device was able to reverse his dormant state. Pulling him out of one cage only to flop him into another. It had larger walls, but was still a cage to the Professor none the less. He was forced to walk around in a version of the world that held no color for him.

The scientist's lip grew sore as he held the charred electronics in his arms. The Professor raised a nail bitten finger and traced against the tarnished surface. His head tilted while he observed the device, holding one of the insect-like ends. Xerosic allowed the Professor to look over the device for awhile before he saw fit to explain.

"This is the device Lysandre used in his plan Professor. It was used to collect power from the ancient weapon that wiped out the unchosen ones."

"I see, how did it work on me?" His eyes were still held on the machine, "The weapon killed, that's all it did. How could this device give life?"

"This device could take life force from its targets, I found a way to reverse the process."

The words settled heavily in the air like a heavy weight pressing into the Professor's shoulders. His gaze trailed and sat on a spot just past Xerosic's face. The scientist could feel the hair prickle on his exposed neck again, he couldn't bring himself to peek at what the Professor was watching. Then Augustine's legs grew weak and he stumbled. Xerosic allowed the useless device to crash in a heap at his feet as he rushed forward to prevent the Professor's head from meeting the table edge.

Thankfully the Professor was caught, his temple spared from the corner by Xerosic's quick motion. The cane clattered onto the tile and Augustine fell limp in the scientist's arms. He was still conscious and soon he regained his strength and allowed Xerosic to assist him back into a waiting chair.

"Are you-"

"Someone died to bring me back!" Augustine blurted, cutting the scientist off. His face paled and the scientist thought it wise to move a trash can within reach.

That ended up being a good decision.

Xerosic rubbed his assistant's back as his breakfast reappeared into the wastebasket. It was like being a youth again, of course he was usually the one whose back was being rubbed. His late night binge sessions were only distant memories at that point, a past he was glad to have behind him. Though the mistakes of his younger days crafted him into the man he currently was. Yet it seemed he continued to crafted like his artist would never be satisfied. He had to admit that his current edition made it easier for him to show comfort.   

"Don't tense up, "He cooed, "You don't need to pull your neck."

The Professor continued to retch until he was certain that nothing else could evacuate from his stomach. His breathing heaved while his arms clung to the edge of the basket as though he was bracing himself. Xerosic brought the hair out of his face while his hand continued to work on his back, "I'll get you some water."

A fresh clean glass was held shaky in the Professor's hands while he sipped carefully. He didn't want to drink too quickly, but he also wanted the burning feeling in his throat to cease. A grimace appeared on his clammy face when he saw the mess he had produced in the waste basket. It got pushed away from his view.

The scientist never stopped rubbing his back, the movements very soft and gentle. Augustine was thankful for the gentle touches, his nausea was beginning to lift.

Xerosic continued to comfort while he got back to the subject at hand, "Yes, someone had to die to bring you back. I won't lie to you, but you should know that it was someone who deserved death."

Augustine waved a dismissing hand at him, "Please mon ami, spare me the details."

He glanced over at the device that was a mess on the floor, "Does it still work?"

It was funny to the top scientist how the Professor held the same concern as AZ. Both men hadn't wished to see the weapon fired on the world, both were forced into a world neither wished for.

"I does not, don't worry Professor."  

Augustine's skin was still pale and clammy and Xerosic could now see why the Professor never became a true Team Flare member. As evidenced by the mess in his waste basket, he wouldn't have had the stomach for it. In a strange way it worked out in his favor that he was in his coma when bodies still were being cleaned from the streets and buildings. He was spared the messy side of the job that many members seemed to forget was the reality. It was only a curious thought that the scientist had, wondering how the man clutching his stomach would have reacted if he stayed where Lysandre ordered him to. There was no way to know and there was no way to ask, the thought was brushed aside.

Augustine took a few deep breaths before he finally thought he could release his hold on his stomach. His head felt like it was strung up and tethered to a balloon, ready to float away and leave his body to crumple onto the floor. A small concerned sound brushed his ears while his eyes squeezed firmly shut so he couldn't see how the room spun in his vision. The last thing he wanted was to vomit again, not that there was anything left other than water.

The sound hit his ears again, his hand rose up as if to brush the source in an assuring manner, "I'll be fine, I just need to regain my bearings."

When the Professor's eyes opened he was met with Xerosic observing him critically. His eyes were hardened and face strained while his mind appeared to be working to piece together what he was currently seeing.

Augustine dropped his hand from the air. His face was plastered with a look like he had just been caught in a scandalizing situation. Which wasn't too far from the truth.

The top scientist let out a long breath before sucking one back in. The chair creaked again as he leaned back into it. For a while only the clock on the wall made any noise. Xerosic was always good at reading someone and that moment, the Professor was a wide open book printed in bright lettering.

Things started to click together in his mind. The medication that the Professor had been taking was a form of anti-psychotic drug, a strange choice for someone with light depression. That wasn't the case though it seemed. No, Lysandre may have preached against liars, but that didn't mean he was any less of one. Such drug choice would mean that it was believed that the Professor suffered some mental delusions, perhaps hallucinations. A fact the Flare Leader thought to keep out of his discussions with his top scientist.

He wasn't taking it anymore, though.

Xerosic thought about every time Augustine appeared to be watching something else unseen, the time he caught him talking to himself. Everything made sense.

"What do you see?" He asked. His morbid curiosity was getting the best of him.

The question caused Augustine to twitch suddenly, he wrung his hands in a manner clearly showing his uncomfortable state. He settled his grey eyes over the scientist's shoulder and suddenly a small smile appeared on his lips. The uncomfortable movements were gradually replaced with a seemingly confident stance. The cane was retrieved from the floor and the Professor rose strongly to his feet. His gaze shifted to Xerosic's own, they never wavered as he answered, "A Malamar, I assume that he is yours."

 

Xerosic stiffened.

"Do you feel him?" Augustine motioned near the scientist's tense shoulder, "He is right there, I guess he doesn't want to leave you."

The Professor didn't intent to come off so cold and after witnessing the shock he left the other man in he thought it best to leave. His lab coat was returned to the hanger near the door, leaving him in one of his favorite blue shirts tucked neatly into his trim pants. No longer did he look like he had been retching only moments before, the color was returned across his cheeks.

"Au revoir, Xerosic. I'll see you tomorrow as always." He spoke nearly incomprehensible. Some amount of embarrassment of the situation caused the Professor to retreat with much haste.

The scientist was still stunned, it wasn't until he heard the door click shut that he pulled out of it. Even then, his neck prickled. Not quite like it had before. The feeling was substantially more intense, almost solid. His head whirled around, but of course there was nothing but towers of cardboard to see.

He mentally berated himself for allowing his emotions to get the best of him, perhaps the Professor was playing some sort of sick joke. He didn't seem like the type to joke in such a way however. Xerosic's shoulder twitched, "Stop it!" He ordered without thinking.

The prickling against his neck came to an end.

 

* * *

 

It was all too much, he had to leave. Once out in the chilly halls it was obvious that the top scientist was too shocked to even make an attempt to stop him. He was sure there would be further questions on his return. Not that he could blame the man, he would have questions as well if such a revelation was dropped on him. Augustine leaned his head against the cool surface of the elevator wall. It did little in aiding the heat in his face. His empty stomach grumbled in protest at the feeling of the elevator lurching to a stop at the chosen floor. The doors opened into more red hallways that the Professor traveled through to a staircase that lead him into an even redder cafe.

 Standing in the space surrounded by the cascades of scarlet, crimson, and flame, he stood out adorned in his choice of blue.

_Like a blemish._

Memories of meals shared in the intimate establishment didn't even flow into his mind anymore, he had traveled through it too many times to muse. Such memories meant little to him anyway, all were tainted with a taste that refused to leave.

The fresh outside air was welcomed into his lungs. The sun gleamed in the partly cloudy sky. It was still mild much to the pleasure of the Professor. The sunlight that leaked into the Magenta Plaza feel warm and comforting on his skin. His steps worked like autopilot while he continued to enjoy the fine weather. It wasn't until he realized that he had wandered into the Centrico Plaza that he stalled his movement.

What was he doing? There was no reason for him to head back to the tower just yet. Besides, he may have left Xerosic reeling, but he too was bombarded with many burdening thoughts. Shutting himself away was the last thing he wished to do at that moment, not when the outside air felt so damn good.

_"...You should know that it was someone who deserved death."_

It was hard to relax when he repeated the line over and over again like a song stuck on replay. Augustine was sure that Xerosic wasn't lying, but knowing that he only walked around because someone else's life was snuffed out still refused to settle easily. Each breath that filled his lungs felt borrowed, stolen.

_"Why me? Why all the effort to keep me around?"_

The answer to his prodding thought was probably an easy one. Why him? Lysandre wanted him that's why. Augustine didn't feel all that thankful for it though. Part of him wanting to fume about the state of his existence. How dare Xerosic work to bring him back, why did he feel the need to add to his suffering! That wasn't a fair thought, Xerosic shouldn't be blamed for helping. The scientist probably just thought he was doing the right thing, or perhaps Augustine was nothing but a science project to him.

He pushed the last part out of his head, Xerosic had been kind to him so far. He enjoyed the scientist's company. Working in the lab was something the Professor looked forward to each day. Reality found a way to invade again however, no matter how good a man the scientist seemed he was still the top scientist of Team Flare. He worked to fire the weapon just like Lysandre. The blood of billions stained his hands as well.

A nearby bench offered a fine place to rest while the Professor's mind worked. The Plaza wasn't crowded, to which Augustine was thankful. Hardly any of the passing bodies paid the man sitting alone at the wooden city bench any mind. Too much to do, places to go and people to see. At least some the city's energy failed to change.

Small groups of travelers made paths down the different avenues, some speaking to those around them. Others could he heard having one sided conversations on their holocasters. Footsteps echoed all around the massive Plaza, these sounds accompanied with the voices were all the passersby could hear.

Augustine existed in a different world.

The sounds that besieged his ears would range from full to fragmented, reminding him that he could only observe. Chirps and cries that wouldn't normally seem foreign to the lone listener flooded around him. He was unable to stop his body from flinching in surprise as flashes of pokémon prancing in the open decorative brick plaza sparked into his vision. Occasionally, they would stop and observe him with bright, almost lively eyes. Calls would try to stir him from his sitting position for the chance that he would join in the playful behavior. Augustine really wanted to, but he knew he couldn't. Not without looking insane.

It would kill him further to see sad fuzzy faces disperse into the air. What could he do, it wasn't like he could really join them in their games. He was trapped at the wrong side of a mirror. The happy smiling reflection that he saw every morning did nothing but mock him. A kind mask worn for his love, because he didn't want to bother him with the continued grief that clawed at him.

When it came right down to it, what did he even have?

Friends?

Sure he would always have Lysandre, but he couldn't ignore what he had done. The rest of the scientists were friendly to him, but it was much of the same. They could present themselves as sweetly as they wanted to him, in the end they were still part of the problem. They followed in Team Flare's regime and chose to follow a path that lead to mass death.

Thoughts like that left Augustine horribly conflicted. He thought about how kind people like Mable were to him. She genuinely appeared to wish him well and want his friendship. Even with that his mind would switch to her in Team Flare garb, ready to do what was needed to insure that her Leader's plan succeeded. That smiling face, all of their smiling faces, would turn bitter and cold. He imagined everyone around adorned in flaming colors, a color he grew repulsed to as time went on. His thoughts weren't far from the reality everyone around, absolutely everyone, was a member of Team Flare. He was the only one who didn't sign up, despite Lysandre's insistence.

A drop of water in a field of fire, only to evaporate in the heat and do nothing to quell the flames. Would it have been easier if he chose to join when asked? He doubted it would have made much of a difference. Other than perhaps he could have done more, actually stopped Lysandre from making such a plan go through. There was no point in the many what-ifs he could run through his mind. They all just piled up and weighed his emotions down, if only he could talk to someone.

When he really thought about it, Augustine had nobody like him to talk to. Only wisps and ghosts that came and went in his view like smoke. It only made him feel more lonely.   

"Why is it so hard?" He lamented to himself.

A nearby chirp answered him. The Professor didn't even react to the noise. He knew the source would leave eventually. Then another trill, this time it was closer and more forceful. The Professor's eyes shifted around the plaza quickly, no one seemed to be paying attention to him still. He shifted his view to the clear spot on the bench next to him.

It was occupied by a bossy looking Pidove. It gave him a good look before proceeding to poke its beak at the Professor's enclosed hand. Of course he felt nothing, but that didn't stop him from pulling his hand free from the assaulting beak. This particular Pidove seemed to have an attitude. It chirped and puffed out bright snowy white chest plumage and was making quite a fuss. If it wasn't for the fact that Augustine was certain that nobody else could hear the small pokémon, he was sure that the entire plaza would hear the whining bird.

Even if others ears were spared, his were not.

"Petit poulet, please calm yourself." His hand was returned next to the ruffled Pidove, his palm out flat to allow the tiny bird to hop onto it. What a strange feeling as he brought his hand over to his lap. He could see the pokémon nestled in his palm, yet there was no weight or feeling. Only a slight tingle in his hand gave him any clue.

So he continued to sit with the bird in his palm. Moving would certainly mean that the poor creature would disappear. It looked so content nesting there. It was funny really, such a thing would have never happened to him before. Usually the many bird pokémon that approached people at benches only wanted to obtain food, sometimes by stealing. The Professor lost count how many times he lost various breads and pastries to a hungry flock.

Yet the little one he held only seemed to want that, to be held. If only he could feel the warmth radiating from its feathers. Leaning his cane against the bench, his other hand moved hesitantly and hovered over the little visitor. His fingers moved to stroke soft gray plumage, only to pass through nothing.

_"This is hell."_

He retracted his hand only to let it settle weakly at his side. A frustrated sigh alerted his tiny friend briefly while Augustine let his head fall against the back of the bench. He squinted his eyes against the light.

He leaned his head to the side only to be met with the striking yellow eyes of the Pidove. Clawed feet bobbed its plump body while it skittered closer to the Professor's face. He twitched when the bird got closer, attempting to nestle into his loose hair. Augustine sat back up so his eyes were no longer crossed trying to watch the nosy bird. The Pidove's eyes grew saddened when his hand passed through again. It didn't matter what they did, they couldn't actually touch each other.

"Please don't look at me like that little one." The Professor said in a hushed, yet gentle voice. The Pidove flew onto his shoulder, only the sight made that known. It cuddled as best it could into the dip of his neck. Small chirps escaped sounding so heartbroken that Augustine felt like his own heart could break as well.

He didn't know why this pokémon wanted to be with him so badly, but at that moment it hardly mattered. He leaned his head towards it, allowing his hair to form a security blanket around the small puff of feathers. The stuttering chirps calmed and for a moment there seemed to be some shared comfort between the two beings. If just for a moment Augustine thought he felt the tickle of feathers against his skin, but as soon as he did the feeling was gone and the Pidove was nowhere in sight.

People continued to come and go throughout the plaza, none taking note of the man that sat alone on the bench.

 

* * *

 

The familiar carved doors slid open and allowed Augustine to wander into the large shared living space of the Prism Tower. Heavy curtains were thrown open to prevent the room from taking on a cave like appearance. The light bounced off the red furniture and walls, casting the entire space in the color. Even the Professor's own skin discolored in the light, leaving it awash in the burning glow.

"Alright, this is too much red." Augustine sighed.

He was growing tired of it really, the color was everywhere he went. A constant brand marking what Lysandre had control over, which was everything. He knew if he asked Lysandre to have the space repainted, curtains replaced, and bedspread switched out he probably would. Actually there was not a single doubt in his mind that he would, There wouldn't even be any hesitation.

Lysandre wasn't being all too subtle with trying to do everything he thought that kept Augustine pleased. Favorite meals were always prepared, breakfast was always made for him, and affection was never in short supply. Books were routinely switched out with new ones to prevent Augustine from running out of things to read, Lysandre even brought him some sappy romance novels. He would occasionally treat himself with such a novel, often paired with a sweet glass of wine and warm bellowing covers. It was all considerate and Augustine certainly appreciated the effort made on his account, but it felt desperate. Each gesture was laced with a hidden agenda that spoke louder than the actions themselves.

_"These things make you happy. You are happy now. Everything is fine."_

He couldn't remember the last time the two of them sat down and had a real conversation. Interactions felt staged, safe, and robotic. Anything that even hinted at an uncomfortable, but needed topic, was instantly shut down. It wasn't all Lysandre's fault to be fair. Augustine avoided certain uncomfortable topics just as much as his partner did and a strange game developed from it. Once such a topic threatened to arise both men would rush to tactics to prevent it. Lysandre would usually deflect by finding something else to talk about, anything. The quality of the weather could only be discussed so many times though.

Augustine's methods were less graceful. He wasn't as well practiced at making a smooth recovery in conversation, so he typically settled for silence. Silence caused by cramming food in his mouth. Of course lately triggering subjects tried to make themselves known during the late hours. Without any food to shut his mouth up with, Augustine improvised with busying his mouth with Lysandre's. He knew that method was the worst. Only made all the more so when he stared blankly at the ceiling's crown molding after the kissing lead to addressing other urges. The physical pleasure could only stem off the emotional dilemma that continued to wage war in his thoughts for so long. 

It wasn't like he didn't want to be intimate with his lover, oh no he guiltily wanted that to continue. He craved the closeness that only Lysandre could offer despite himself. Physically nothing was wrong, their bodies formed well around each other from all the years together. Every movement performed was well trained, each man knowing exactly what to touch, how to breathe, what rhythm to take while pleasing the other.

Even though Lysandre was to blame for his new life, he was still the only viable tether to his life before. Before things became so complicated, so confusing and painful. He continued to reach out to Lysandre because in the private moments just between them, he could almost forget what the truth was outside the tower. Like a trip taken to the past, Augustine would look into his partner's light pools of blue and remember a version of himself dreaming of the future. With that he could just about go to bed content, left to dream about a future he would never grasp. It wouldn't be until morning that he was reminded, Lysandre never shared his dream.

His protective mask never cracked when tough mornings caused it to have to be worn. He was the happy-go-lucky Professor Sycamore. Always optimistic and never a pessimist. He was charming and high on life. Even when dreams stirred him from his slumber, leaving his skin aflame and damp, he maintained the image. Perhaps with enough practice the mask would become real.

"A shower would be lovely right about now." Augustine announced to himself, retreating from the red stained space and into the bright environment of the master bath.

It was exactly what he needed at that moment. The Professor's clothes sat folded on the counter next to a plush towel. The steam filled the room, fogging the shower glass and obscuring the naked form relaxing under the jet of water. The heat and the water pressure began to work out knots that formed in Augustine's neck and shoulders. He made no effort to grab for anything to wash his hair, he just wanted to soak for a bit.

He pushed any remaining feelings regarding a certain feathered visitor out of the forefront of his mind. It was a well practiced act so it wasn't long before the coils in his gut released and freed him from the nauseating trap. He soon continued the tactic with the remaining troubling feelings and thoughts. He was fooling himself he knew, pushing the issues aside didn't fix the problem. At that point he simply settled for the temporary solution just so he could feel some relief.

He distracted himself by drawing little faces in the foggy glass, not nearly as artistic as what he could create on paper.  Perhaps he should get himself a sketch book he thought, there was certainly no harm in a creative outlet. He possessed no musical talent when it came to instruments so forming a band with Xerosic was out of the question, unless of course he joined on vocals.

He laughed to himself at the image that formed. Xerosic would want the band to be edgy with pale faces, dark liner, and tight black clothes. The image continued, both men were decked out in clothes befitting the youth that once hung out around an abandoned hotel. Augustine's hair was an inky shade of black, matching the color painted across his nails. His hands held the microphone tightly while his eyes, smudged with black liner, squeezed shut. He was belting out a random power ballad, Xerosic by his side in similar garb providing backup. He could probably pull off the look, however he wasn't sure he could be much of a scream queen. Another chuckle escaped him.

"Something funny happen to you today my dear?"

Augustine certainly did **not** nearly jump out of his skin. He also did **not** nail his "funny bone" against the edge of the glass wall.  Turns out it really wasn't as funny as advertised.

"Peeking on me? You should be ashamed Lysandre." He teased, only raising his voice so he could be heard over the shower. He cleared a nice little circle in the condensation and shot his partner an accusing stare. He did his best not to grimace at the tingly pain that shot up his arm from his less than graceful display.

Lysandre simply arched an eyebrow and worked the top buttons off his shirt, freeing his neck. One of the few tops that the man owned that wasn't some form of warm color. Gray with black stitching lining it decoratively, a bit cold but at least it wasn't red.

"May I?" Lysandre asked. The shirt was already abandoned by Augustine's pile, the rest of the garments joined and formed another neat stack. Once another towel was laid out, the redhead slid open the glass doors and let out a pleased sigh when he was engulfed by the steam.

Augustine wasn't against the idea of them sharing the shower. It was such a common occurrence that he hardly batted an eye when he felt soft skin press against his own. He held himself steady with the aid of the handrail and simply enjoyed the feeling of Lysandre's arms slipping around his waist. The man's beard brushed against his exposed earlobe before it was claimed and gently sucked on.

"So..." Lysandre's voice was smooth like velvet, "What was so funny?"

Augustine melted into the embrace. The gentle touches accompanied with the soothing warmth of the shower were working magic on his weakened mood. It wasn't until Lysandre spoke again that he realized he had yet to answer the question posed.

"I was just thinking about whether or not me and Xerosic should form a band. What do you think?" Augustine twisted around and planted both palms firmly on Lysandre's pectorals, "Do you think I could pull off the tight leather pants?" The last words were marked with a couple firm squeezes of toned muscle.

There it was, the flirty Sycamore that Lysandre loved. Even if he made a show to act unaffected, it was rather obvious that the thought caused a reaction in him. The squeezes only made his face flush, but that could have been from the heat of the shower. Oh yes certainly that, not the feeling of soft hands squeezing firm skin.

"You're are being ridiculous." He muttered into the top of Augustine's damp hair.

"You like it." Augustine shot back and proceeded to actually make the effort to wash himself.

Lysandre didn't respond, but he really didn't have to. He did like it. No, he loved it. He craved moments like that between the two of them. It helped him in his moments of doubt and helped him believe:

 He and Augustine were going to be ok.

 The conversation regarding whether or not he was forgiven for his actions had yet to come up. If Lysandre had to be honest with himself, he had no desire to have that discussion. As long as Augustine seemed happy, he didn't wish to question it. So for the most part he didn't.

After both men accomplished the feat of using the shower for its intended purpose, they stepped out onto the plush bathmat. Augustine dug his toes into the thick mat, curling them around the soft fibers and sighing at the strangely satisfying feeling the act was giving him.

A small sound left Lysandre's chest that could be interpreted as an amused chortle. He supported Augustine until he was leaning over the vanity and ruffling his damp hair around his face. The Professor traced a few undesirable lines that were forming around his eyes. There was nothing that could be done about it, he wasn't in his twenties anymore.

Lysandre eyed him none too secretly while he ran a wide tooth comb through his own locks. He let the long ends fall loosely around his shoulders and simply combed back the front to prevent strands from falling into his eyes. After the task was complete he felt the need to speak up.

"Tu es belle." The taller man purred, causing Augustine to freeze once their gazes locked in the mirror.

A thank you hardly had the chance to voice before the Professor's face was cupped gently and turned so his lips could meld into Lysandre's. The kiss was long, just enough to cause Augustine's head to spin. From the steam or the kiss, he couldn't tell. The act of dressing was abandoned, neither were making a good effort on that part, in favor of continued kissing and caressing.

They would break, suck in a breath and go back for more. Large hands rubbed the length of Augustine's back, stopping and gripping into his shoulders and deepening the kiss. The Professor was soon lifted and placed on the vanity, his legs dangled on either side of the fervent man before him. They broke again when Augustine let out a surprised yelp. After such a warm shower his ass wasn't prepared to sit against the cold surface of the vanity top. The shock wasn't enough to end the encounter however.

Lysandre rubbed against thin legs almost apologetically before continuing his fevered assault of his partner's lips. Particularly the lower one, which was now trapped in between teasing teeth. Hands continued to rub and prod until Lysandre's gripped into Augustine's thighs, clearly expressing his growing need.

That was when the act dropped. As much as Augustine's body may have been reacting, even though his body was ready and willing, he pushed his hands forward to cover himself. Lysandre stopped and brought his hands away, "Is something the matter?" The concern in his voice was real even though it was laced with the slightest amount of displeasure.

 _"Where do I begin_. _"_ Augustine's mind supplied. Instead of speaking, he sat awkwardly on the vanity top with both hands covering his exposed groin. Didn't make much sense really, especially having remained naked in front of each other the entire time in the shower. The discomfort that bubbled over him couldn't be ignored and pushed aside nor could it be reasoned with it seemed. He knew he couldn't remain silent, Lysandre expected some sort of explanation.

"I'm tired." He muttered, instantly scolding himself internally for the piss poor answer.

Lysandre wasn't fooled. Augustine's face did little to hide the fact that the excuse was hiding the true reason, "Let's get dressed and eat some dinner."

The first deflection was instantly deflected back. Another uncomfortable conversation pushed aside to never be discussed. Wordlessly, Lysandre assisted Augustine from the vanity and both men clothed themselves in silence.

 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Normally Augustine wouldn't mind, but now that he sat at the little dining table with a grumbling stomach he realized he had hoped for a hot dinner. That was not what was offered however and skipping lunch felt like the biggest mistake he had made that day. _"It wasn't,"_ he sourly reminded himself while he drizzled some oil and vinegar over some thinly sliced cucumbers and onions. Certainly his biggest mistake of the day was his bit of over sharing that took place back in Xerosic's lab. Whatever would come of it would be learned on their next meeting, no point in troubling himself with it now. 

He took a drink of his offered beverage. It was pulpy, fresh, and slightly more filling than the salad he was working on. A woven bowl was filled with colorful fruits and berries that were currently in season. As the Professor picked out a favorite from the bunch he felt the need to break the silence at the table.

"It looks like the gardens are doing well."

Lysandre looked up from his own plate and dabbed his mouth with a napkin before politely continuing the topic, "Yes, the yield isn't as high as it should be unfortunately."

 There wasn't too long of a break before Augustine remarked with a simple, "Oh." He almost added a "why", but he knew the reason. He was just curious to hear if Lysandre would say it on his own.

"The fields are large and vast and it can be difficult to pollinate so many flowers by hand, not to mention the heat has been hard on those tasked with it." The redhead rambled like he would if sharing the information with one of his scientists.

"Good thing that the wind can naturally do the job, though not as well." Augustine left it at that, he didn't need to say what the wind wasn't as efficient as.

"True." Lysandre's final response was hardly able to be heard while he brought his own drink to his lips.

The topic was dropped after that and both men thought it best to focus on their meals. It was amazing how both knew exactly what they were talking about, though neither wanted to be the one to say it. Of course there was less yield for the harvest, without the aid of the various bug pokémon it was always going to be the case. Yet another thing that was either not planned for, or simply ignored as a sad fact of the future Lysandre chose to build.

Any other topics that were brought up remained in the realm deemed safe to converse. So the remainder of the meal went off without a hitch. Clean up was quick and easy and after a couple more hours of occasional talk and silent reading, it was time to retire for the day.

Augustine was ready. Once his back struck the mattress he would have been content to fall asleep right then.

"Mon amour." Came Lysandre's smooth voice, disrupting his lazy state. "You almost forgot again."

"Oh? Oh! Sorry, you are right." Augustine gripped Lysandre's waiting hand and rose to the edge of the bed. There set out on the nightstand for him was a glass of water and his medication.

The pill was swiped from the waxed surface and was soon chased by a drink of water. Of course once Lysandre was no longer paying Augustine any attention, the pill was removed from under his tongue and unceremoniously shoved between the mattress and the box spring.  At least that was the intended target. To his dismay the pill dropped from his fingers and onto the floor which left him with having to settle for sweeping it under the bed with his foot instead. He made a mental note to make sure to dispose of it properly in the morning.

Any evidence of slight panic was instantly wiped from his face once Lysandre returned to the bed after switching off the surrounding lamps. He crawled under the plush covers and brought his arms snugly around the middle of his sleep partner, his nose buried into freshly shampooed hair.

"Lysandre?"

The redhead pulled away so Augustine could shift under the covers to face him, "You still owe me a cake I realized." Thinking about food was easy when dinner was less than satisfying, he didn't want to admit that he skipped lunch however.

Lysandre simply blinked until recollection struck him. He smiled and pressed his lips into the Professor's forehead, "That I do, how did you want it again?"

"I think chocolate would be good with pecha berries stacked up high in the center. That sounds perfect." Augustine yawned out the last part of his request. Fantasies about the promised cake made his mouth water slightly. It did not prevent the doziness from taking hold.

"Anything for you." Lysandre whispered through his own yawn. It was proving contagious and the tall man could no longer ignore his weariness. So with Augustine still held close and with their breathing soon joining together in the same rhythm, Lysandre drifted off into easy slumber.   

Only Augustine stirred despite his desire to join. In the usual quiet of the room he could just make out the low drone of deep purring at the end of the mattress. There was no question to him what it was yet, he really didn't wish to investigate at that moment. He had been haunted enough that day. With the rumble producing a sort of white noise soon Augustine's uneasiness was eventually replaced. He finally felt relaxed enough to drift off. Unfortunately for him, he drifted into the realm of Morpheus. The slumber would not be spared from dreams that night.

 

* * *

 

The place was familiar, yet easily forgotten at the same time. It wouldn't be until he returned that the familiarity would creep back. He remembered that he stood in the very same spot many times before staring blankly at the dark expanse of room stretched out before him. Then the light would appear. Low and yellow like the beginning of a warning trying to keep him away. Even though it wasn't bright or welcoming, he walked to it just the same. There was no way for him to know how far he walked. The glow never changed and without the aid of nearby surroundings the Professor felt like he was walking in a void. Slowly, painfully so, the space would change. His fists tightened against his sides and his body grew rigid once the scene focused into view.

Even in the low light he could make out the small bed. It was occupied of course, but it always was so it came as no surprise. The Professor eyed his seemingly lifeless corpse without fear. It wasn't fear that struck him, it was stress. His body knew what was about to come. The surrounding monitors were dark and unresponsive, offering no insight to the condition of his body.

Movement in his peripheral shifted his view. Also occupying the space was Lysandre. He sat engulfed in the dark, a shaky hand stroking Augustine's own. The body's. Even with the dark shrouding his features, Augustine could tell with how his shoulders quaked that he was crying. Crying over him.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, even though it fell on deaf ears. His own hand reached to touch the man before him, to comfort him in his moment of grief. It was to no avail, his fingers simply passed through air. No matter how much he could wish that his fingers would graze against his damp cheeks, they wouldn't obey.

"Why are you?" Came a familiar voice from behind. He knew the voice, yet names escaped him. All he knew is that the voice was soft, feminine, concerned. Somehow the tone only worked to push his emotions further down the path they were already traveling.

Augustine didn't turn to face the source, his body refused to move from his frozen position. He simply responded without taking his gaze from Lysandre's shadowy form.

"I'm not." He croaked weakly.

"Augustine, I can see your tears. Why do you cry for him?" There was a brush of cold like a sheet of ice was cast over his exposed skin. 

Shivers aggressively shot up his spine, this left him feeling shocked as though touched by a prod. Even with that he couldn't turn to face the speaker behind him. He just brought his palm and wiped away the evidence that was indeed present beneath his eyes.

"I don't know." Augustine's mouth grew dry and his chest tightened, he just didn't know how to answer.

"Augustine," The voice began again, "What do you choose?"

Trapped was all he felt at that moment. Caught in between two worlds unable to pull himself to either side. He couldn't reach Lysandre no matter how much he tried. The voice behind him was just that, a voice. Its touch could only chill him deep into his core. Somehow he knew that he couldn't reach them either.  

The tightness gripped again tighter and refused to release, quick shallow breaths accompanied the rapid thudding in his chest, "I don't understand what you are asking." He said with labored effort. Weakness rattled through his limbs and soon he dropped onto the floor. Both hands gripped his chest while he gasped for air.

The voice was so close. It spoke with gentleness in his ear while he watched Lysandre hold his body and weep, "You've always had a choice Augustine."

His vision grew hazy while his gasping continued. The thudding in his chest felt like it would break from his ribs. After a few more tears left his eyes, the scene faded.

_"How do I have a choice?"_

 

* * *

 

Augustine shot up from the covers as if his muscles were pumped full of electricity. At some point during the night a majority of the pillows and heavy blankets were piled on top of him. He thrashed with unknown panic until he was cleared of everything that constricted him, including his sleep partner.

Lysandre cursed from being disturbed by sharp elbows smacking into him. He soothed his sore chest and rubbed his eyes before eyeing the time on the wall.

_"7 am?"_

It couldn't be helped, now that Lysandre was awake there would be no going back to sleep for him now. Augustine finally settled and calmed himself by sucking deep breaths into his lungs. He breathed as if air was robbed from him. His raging heartbeat slowly regulated before catching Lysandre's staring blue eyes in the side of his vision.

"Did I wake you?" He murmured mareepshly.

Lysandre was still rubbing the reddened region of his chest, "Oui." Then he rose out of bed without another word and retreated into the bathroom.

Augustine fell back into the mattress, both hands gripped a palm full of hair while he racked his mind over his violent stirring. The sound of pads moving against the polished floor pulled him from his thoughts. The sound stopped only to be replaced by the familiar rumble heard last night.

"No," He rasped through his dry lips, "Go away, I'm not in the mood." Without thinking he swung his arms out as if he was trying to shoo vermin from a kitchen. He wasn't expecting to strike anything by doing so.

"Merde." Lysandre hissed. A glass of water he brought out for the Professor was knocked clean from his hand. There was no saving it once the glass shattered onto the floor. 

Augustine shot up, his face flushed from embarrassment, "Mon Dieu! I'm so sorry, let me help you."

Lysandre simply put up a hand to stop him, "Non, I don't want you to cut yourself." He retreated only to return with a rag and a dustpan. He soaked up most of the water with the rag before he carefully began to pick up the larger shards of glass from the floor and transfer them into the dustpan.

Augustine sat without saying a word, he was still embarrassed from having caused the mess in the first place. Then a ping of panic struck him when Lysandre began to clean glass that shattered under the bed.

"Oh! Wait I really should help you with that!" He leapt none too carefully onto the floor, nearly digging a couple shards into his knee, "Why don't you go grab another rag while I finish with the glass."

"You are going to hurt yourself!" Lysandre scolded. Not that saying so stopped him, there wasn't much he could do now that Augustine was already down on the floor with him. "You really don't have to help, I'm almost done any-"

With that single pause Augustine felt like the floor could open up and swallow him whole. Once he saw the discarded pill held between Lysandre's fingers, he knew his game was over.

"Lysandre, I-"

"You've been lying to me." He didn't word it like a question, because there wasn't any question in his mind what the discovery meant. His eyes turned to Augustine and the Professor couldn't help but notice how cold they appeared to him now. It wasn't fear that struck him though, but in that single gaze he could now see how others were intimidated by his eyes.

"I have." There was no point in denying it. The game of pretend each night was becoming too difficult to continue anyway, maybe it would be easier this way.

Lysandre's jaw clenched and his eyes tore away from the man sitting next to him, "You can't just quit your prescription, you have to start taking it again." A heavy hand gripped Augustine's arm with the illusion of affection, "Do you understand? I think Xerosic will understand it if you take a week or two off from the labs. Just until this mistake is taken care of."

Augustine didn't face him when the words washed over him. When the taller man finally released him after lifting him to his feet he still didn't respond. His cane was collected and held tightly in his shaking fists, something inside him stirred. All the walls that were built up began to crumble down brick by brick.

"No." He spat with surprising venom.

This caused the Flare Leader to pause, his head cocked towards his partner as though he hadn't quite heard his response, "Pardon?"

"No, I'm not doing that!" Augustine's eyes finally met Lysandre's. Instead of gentle pools of soft grey, they were hardened like stone and sharp like glass, "I'm not one of your grunts, you can't order me around like one!"

Lysandre looked to be conflicted. His whole body quivered with what could be seen as growing fury, but he kept it locked away. So he just stood numb and restrained with both hands still thrust into the nearby dresser. Even if Lysandre was holding back his true feelings, Augustine no longer felt the need to do so. He moved past the silent man and collected his chosen clothing from the dresser and traveled into the bathroom to change.

His routine was pushed into high speed, hair was thrown back with little care, morning stubble ignored, and his shirt was left without being tucked. It wasn't until he was power brushing his teeth that Lysandre chose to invade.

"You'll never get well if this is how you choose to act." There was a forced calm in his tone, it was even more apparent when his arms moved in an attempt to pull the Professor close to him.

The toothbrush clattered against the sink, "Has it ever occurred to you that I'm in fact not sick?" Augustine repulsed away from reaching hands, he was not in the mood for any form of affection from the Flare Leader. A cold stare accompanied with his body language spoke volumes to Lysandre.

He was losing his Augustine fast and his control was slipping.

If the rising anger was being locked up, it burst from its chains in the flurry of emotions that raged in the scene. Even Augustine's pain filled whine did little to stop his movements. Fingernails dug into the flesh of the Professor's wrists as he was pushed against the hard surface of the vanity. When Lysandre spoke, he roared, his rage bubbling to a head and burning everything around him. Even someone he claimed to want to protect.

"I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU!" Every booming word caused his hands to tighten further around Augustine's thin wrists, threatening to snap them like twigs. The anger blinded him from the look of horror that clung to the Professor's face.

"LYSANDRE!" Augustine cried, "STOP!"

The evidence of what he truly was reflected savagely in the streaked mirror. His eyes looked wild and beast-like. His hands dug into pale skin like claws trying to tear flesh from bone. His prey was held with little care under his large body. Once Lysandre allowed the fear filled eyes to sink in, once he could see what Augustine saw, he released his hold. That only revealed another piece of evidence of his actions. Augustine's wrists were reddened and raw, already bruising from the abuse.

"I... I'm so sorry." He pleaded.

The words fell without meaning to the Professor. He pushed himself free from the man he thought he knew, grabbed his cane and ran. His shoes were a quick afterthought before he stumbled into the elevator. Lysandre wasted no time in pursuing, he held his body against the doors to prevent their closure.

"Augustine-"

"DON'T FOLLOW ME!" The Professor's face was still twisted in horror. He pushed himself against the far corner of the tiny box-like space, desperately avoiding the taller man preventing his escape. There was a moment of hesitation, but Lysandre pulled himself away from the doors and watched with a dull expression as they shut him away from Augustine.

There was nothing that he could say. For the first time in his life Augustine saw his love for what he was. Any amount of denial that he retained slipped off with every floor the elevator descended through. Even with the knowledge of what Lysandre had done, that he wrote up and preached the vision. The vision that created the world that he was trapped in. Some part of him still couldn't picture the passionate man he knew ordering the deaths of so many people. Not when he seemed so compassionate about the hardships of the needy.

 The Lysandre that just revealed himself, that version was a murderer. He could picture it all too easily, with a sweep of his hand the lives of many were thrown out like trash and filth. He was Lysandre Fleur-de-lis no longer, he was the Team Flare Leader.

 All the Professor wanted to do was get away, run as far as his lungs could take him. He couldn't bear to face the monster wearing Lysandre's skin. Even with all the evidence presented out for him, Augustine still wanted to believe with his entire heart that the Lysandre he once knew was a good man.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Song list for this chapter:
> 
> Florence & The Machine-No Light, No Light
> 
> Tristam & Braken - Frame of Mind
> 
> Fox Stevenson - Manage
> 
> Zedd - Addicted To A Memory (ft. Bahari)
> 
> Jeffree Star - I'm in love (with a Killer)
> 
> (I wrote a new drabble that has a happier feel in my drabbles/deleted scenes.)


	12. Truth and Ideals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets pretty intense throughout. There are scenes that depict death and dying and it details a character experiencing high stress and panic attacks. I just wanted those warnings to be clear before diving into this chapter.

Augustine's lungs felt ragged and raw like burning pins were forced into them from huffing in the chilled, almost frigid morning air. He staggered through the barren streets of the city. Not a soul or vision crossed his path. His thudding, heavy feet beat into the cement and cobblestone. The echoes from each burdensome step shot through his ears causing his head to protest from a building ache that was ready to crack through. The Professor had no plan, no clear direction in where he chose to run. So he mindlessly rushed where his autopilot took him first, to Xerosic's lab.

It wasn't an ideal place, but Augustine couldn't push himself to run any further. He slumped, defeated, against the locked door of the lab. The slight break offered in the ride to the underground failed to end the pain that shot through his leg muscles. They seized and grew stiff like joints of a machine in need of maintenance. The pain only dulling once the cool tile worked into his limbs like an icepack. Too bad the same couldn't be said for his internal agony, physical easing could only do so much. He winced once his palms rested against the floor. His wrists were stiff, chafed, and they strung with every slight movement.

He was alone. It was still too early for the top scientist to be awake and it appeared the remaining staff stuck to a similar schedule. At least in that level of the laboratories. Being alone had its merits truth be told. Now that Augustine was without witness, he broke down. The tears flooded like rushing rapids breaking through a failing dam. In a way that wasn't too far from the reality. After holding back for so long, it almost felt good to cry. Like a pressure finally being allowed to release.

So he sat against the hard floors and metal door with his sore arms curled protectively around his thin legs. He just allowed all the bottled up feelings to flow out and flow out they did. His vision was useless against the onslaught of tears. Eventually he gave up in wiping them away, it only caused his face to streak and become raw from the constant rubbing.

 Unfortunately, even with how freeing the act was it wouldn't remove the looming sense of loss. Like he was in mourning of a loved one without any hope of closure. That was a consistent curse he seemed to be damned with. Ever since he awoke and learned that Lysandre's plan hadn't been a nightmare that he couldn't stir from, the bereavement was almost too much to bear. If he thought about it for too long it would weigh him down as though hundreds of stones were being layered across his body, threatening to cave him in if anymore were added to the pile. Each name of someone who was passed felt like another stone stacked on his already cracking ribs. It was so overwhelming, Augustine couldn't figure out how he could mourn for them all. He doubted there were enough years in his lifetime to properly process everything that occurred.

 It was still so surreal. Even with the pain making it clear that he existed, that the world around him wasn't an illusion, he still wondered if he would wake up and find that none of it had occurred. That perhaps he was blessed with some form in insight and he still had time to prevent it all from happening. If only he could have a chance to redeem himself to those he still believed he failed. He knew such thoughts were only groomed to give him further heartache. What was done was done, nothing could change that now.

 The only small bit of solace he could take was that the children passed without struggle. That little spark he held in his chest like the smallest bit of heat in the depths of a glacial cave. It still hurt, gouged into his heart and filled the space with guilt and anguish. He just had to believe that they hadn't suffered.

He thought about rushing to his lab in the blackout zone and staying there, for how long he wasn't sure. It was certainly better than returning to the Prism Tower even though his laboratory was devoid of the things that made the space worthwhile to him. It was never the building that mattered to him. It was a blessing that he received it, but only because it gave his staff a proper area to work. The building was simply four walls when it came right down to it. It was the people and pokémon that stood by him in those walls that made working there his joy. Now it was all gone, stolen from him without regret.

All he had left were merely shadows that occasionally made themselves known. These did little to ease his suffering and it only made him want to reach out further. Perhaps if he continued to reach, continued to grasp out at smoke, maybe just maybe he would touch something solid. Even if it was only for the briefest of moments, he just wanted a small taste of what was lost.

Slumped against the unyielding floor, hiding his face behind messy hair was how Xerosic found him. His eyes looked the Professor over before settling on his reddened skin. Augustine didn't acknowledge him until a gloved hand hovered over the tender marks. He twitched as though burned and pulled away, his sleeves pulled down to hide the abused area. Not that hiding them erased what the top scientist saw.

Xerosic straightened, his face unreadable, and offered his assistance in helping the Professor to his feet. Their hands locked and Augustine took note of how carefully he held them, refusing to apply too much pressure. The scientist then bent down and collected the cane that was left to lie abandoned.

"I'll get the door." His voice but a whisper, as though raising it might frighten the Professor away. The cane was offered and Augustine felt like he relied on it more than he ever had in the past. The door's lock clicked and let out an affirmative beep once the scientist's keycard swept through the keypad. With shaky, tentative steps the Professor made his way into the familiar space.

"I'm sorry that it was locked." Xerosic spoke while he pushed a chair across the floor for his assistant to rest at, "I didn't know you were coming in so early."

"I didn't either." Augustine replied dryly. He didn't sit in the offered chair, just leaned against the central work station and cast his glance at the needed-to-be-swept floor. The air settled heavily between the two men, neither quite knowing how to proceed.

It was Xerosic that finally chose break the silence. In his many years of employment he chose to overlook quite a few transgressions in favor of focusing on results. This was not something he thought he could overlook. He joined his companion at the wide table, removing his gloves and allowing his pale palms to rest against the black surface. He was hesitant yet comforting, at least he hoped that was how he was perceived.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His gaze flicked to the Professor's wrists and then back to the dull face that was now staring at him.

The Professor swallowed thickly, he tried to moisten his dry mouth before he answered, "I don't, not now..." He trailed and Xerosic thought it best not to push the issue. At least not right at the moment.

It wasn't a big mystery really to the top scientist. There was no way for him to know the exact details of what transpired, but it wasn't too hard to grasp the essentials. The inevitable bomb that ticked away finally reached zero. Not even the Professor it seemed, could be spared the burning rage that Xerosic knew all too well existed inside the Director. Looking at how broken the man in front of him appeared, the scientist couldn't help but feel pity. It really wasn't fair was it?

Xerosic filled a glass with cold water from the nearby sink and slipped it across the table space for the Professor to drink. He graciously gathered the glass in his quivering fingers and emptied the glass in a sort of desperation. Almost like he had been wandering through a desert for days and finally found a rich oasis.

"Have you eaten?" Xerosic asked once the empty glass was placed back onto the tabletop. The question was more for politeness than anything else, somehow he just knew that the Professor hadn't.

"I'm not hungry." Came the mechanical response, Xerosic wasn't convinced.

"You should eat something," He wandered over to his refrigerator and opened to top door that held the freezer, "I don't have much, but I'm sure there is something that won't settle like ash in your stomach."

The Professor sniffed and watched the scientist dig through the questionable contents of the freezer, "I appreciate it, but no. I don't think it will remain."

Xerosic considered for a moment and finally decided to abort his mission, no need to have the Professor puking in his trashcan again.

"You can always have something later."

He joined the Professor back at the table and for a while both men stood without saying much. Augustine occasionally glanced around the room, his gaze hovering on a few locations before settling back to his fingers. He was busying his hands by tearing at dry skin, sometimes bringing a fingertip to his mouth when he broke open a wound.

"Professor, I wanted to talk about yesterday. If you wouldn't mind." It probably wasn't a great subject to get into, but there was more of a chance that Augustine would speak. Speaking meant that he would get out of his mind for a brief moment and stop tearing his fingers to shreds.

"What do you want to talk about?" Augustine hardly looked up from his hands.

Xerosic resisted the urge to pull the man's hands apart, if just for a moment of not having to see him nurse a bleeding cuticle between his lips, "I don't believe I ever talked to you about my Malamar, in fact I know that was a subject I never touched." The scientist was relieved once Augustine ceased in his picking and met his eyes.

"You don't strike me as a liar-"

The Professor audibly huffed, which the top scientist chose to ignore.

"I don't believe you would lie about something like that." Xerosic's stomach twisted from some rising anxiety, "Do you... Do you see my Malamar now?"

Augustine shook his head, "They don't always make themselves known to me."

"They?"

Now the Professor nodded, "It wasn't just your Malamar I saw. I'm visited by many different visons, all pokémon. Some I think I knew, but many I didn't. I never know when I'll be visited... haunted." There was a distance that Xerosic could see in Augustine's gaze, "You must think I'm insane?"

"It doesn't matter what I think." He continued his thought once he saw the Professor's face cast back to his resting hands, "You should know that I actually don't think you are insane. I think unless there is evidence to suggest otherwise, I believe you."

"I think I'm insane." He mumbled.

The clock ticked away, drawing Augustine's attention. He hadn't expected to stay in the lab as long as he did, "Xerosic?" He began, bracing himself on this cane and stepping away from table, "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

The sudden change in his tone caught him instantly, there was almost a pleading desperation to it. The way the Professor moved himself closer and closer to the open door, Xerosic could tell he was becoming flighty, "What do you need?"

"If Lysandre asks, tell him I've been here all day."

Xerosic simply blinked and shook his head. Perhaps, he was a bit surprised at the request. It didn't seem like the Professor at all to ask for someone to lie for him, but the situation wasn't a normal one in anyway.

"I need to get away for a bit, please do this for me." Augustine pleaded, he didn't care enough not to beg.

"What if he comes here and looks for you?" It was a fair question and the scientist wanted Augustine to be aware of the possibilities, "What would you have me say to him?"

The Professor paused, "Make something up... I'm sorry I shouldn't ask this of you."

Xerosic waved him off, "I'll do it. I just want to know that you'll come back."

When Augustine didn't respond the scientist added, "You are coming back, right?"

A hand was ran through his sloppy curls, his scruff scratched in consideration, "I think so." There was a laugh, but not in humor, "I have nowhere else to go."

The scientist crossed the space and put a reassuring hand on his assistant's back, "Whether or not you believe me, I've become fond of your company." He took a breath and made his decision, "Do what you need to do, I'll cover for you."

A careful hug was shared, one that Xerosic wasn't entirely prepared for, but pulled into nonetheless. Augustine wanted comfort from a friend and that was what the scientist could offer. It was the least he could do after all. A bubble of guilt worked its way up through the scientist's wide chest, it surfaced as they pulled away. The chaos from the day before prevented him from tackling the topic that he'd promised Mable he would cover. _"It was time for full honesty,"_ she would say and Xerosic knew that she was right.

 "I meant to tell you sooner... I wasn't being all that truthful with you about that device I had you test."

"I know."

"You do?" It was hard to hide the look of surprise that swept across the older man's nearly colorless face.

Augustine's mouth turned in the suggestion of a smile, "I figured it out when I was reading over some reports in Lysandre's office. There was quite a bit of material involving post-weapon-fire radiation levels and those levels as found in the victims." Any suggestion of the smile had since faded, "Not to mention the detailed notes I found while cleaning your lab, though I couldn't read all of them."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Something about it all felt wrong, invading, a betrayal of trust. He couldn't really do this, could he? An affirmative noise urged the Professor onward. His hands carefully shuffled through the stack of documents that were left forgotten by Xerosic's sink. There was something violating about the whole act, but as he scanned titles and read a few promising lines it passed.

Lysandre's office offered a generous bounty of needed knowledge, but it didn't completely sate his curiosity. The reports filed away in the Prism Tower were vague at best. No, he needed to get the information from the source. He scanned the door again to insure that he was still alone, well as alone as he could be, before lifting a heavy clipped bundle of papers. One look at the scrawled out notes and the Professor knew that he struck gold.

The document lined out the planning process for the making of the Team Flare uniforms. To most they looked like a sort of fashion statement, but as Augustine read on it proved not to be the whole story.

_"Radiation suits are too bulky, not the image that the great Lysandre Fleur-de-lis wishes for his followers to promote. Arceus knows he would never step foot in one, save the first time we discovered the weapon under Geosenge. 'Never again' he cried, so here I am tasked with producing something sleeker. I can see some wisdom in it, radiation suits are 'scary'. Whereas what he hopes to produce would be more appealing to the general masses. Hell, I can already see the hopefuls lining up for an off chance that they would even be allowed one of the suits. How pathetic."_

Drawn out looked to be early concept art of the Team Flare uniforms along with the list of requests that Lysandre hoped to incorporate into the final product. Based on Xerosic's continued ranting notes, he was not pleased with the list.

_"Silph Co. sent horrible samples according to the Director. Apparently the company has too many security issues and continuing to engage them in business could result in a tarnished image for Lysandre Labs. I don't give a shit who we get the samples from. Polymeric nano metal fabric doesn't come in that many variants. My scheduled tests rely on having some sort of product to test. Yet another setback, hopefully this company from Hoenn proves more promising."_

Augustine flipped a few more pages and sat himself against the nearby counter. After another glance at the doorway he continued reading.

_"Devon Corp. calls it Devron. I hate to admit it, but the wait may have been worth it. First tests look promising. The fabric definitely withstands high radiation levels without the need for thick lining. It's soft to the touch and highly manageable, though I wouldn't have chosen the color. Thankfully only having two colors available wasn't a deal breaker. The Director wasted no time in piling stacks of sketches on me for the finished look. I just don't get how his mind works sometimes. He shows that he has an amazing mind for inventing, yet chooses to cater to Kalosian vanity with his designs. Doesn't he realize what type of people that this will attract into his cause? Are these really the type of people he wants to enlist in Team Flare? At least he doesn't expect me to do this on my own. The women are young, but he assures me that they are capable."_

The Professor's thin fingers traced over the detailed sketches. He paused at a sketch that showed the original idea for Lysandre's signature jacket. Such a shame, he thought. The designs were truly fantastic, if only he would have focused his skills on fashion. He would have certainly took the world by storm with his designs.

_"The tests were more successful than what I dared to theorize. Despite the expectation that the final design choices would end with a less than effective product, I was happily proven incorrect. In regards to the tests performed I can say with much certainty than the uniforms will protect the wearers from the radiation expected during stage three of the Director's plan. That's to say if the radiation is at the levels expected, the Director knows that it will be a risk. There is still a very real possibility that he will not emerge from this alive. None of us may come out of this alive, but for the sake of morale I'll keep that quiet."_

Augustine took a much needed drink from the sink before flipping through the pages again. His palms shook and his teeth bore marks into his bottom lip as he scanned pages of info that held much resemblance to pieces read from Lysandre's office. He thought about the wrapped package that was gifted to him when his lab still functioned and there were still things to study. That burning color of the cloth.

Little did Lysandre know that he tried the garment on at one time. He felt more than a little silly as he twisted in front of his mirror. The cut was perfect, but the color just didn't seem to work for him he thought. So he carefully packaged it back up, after claiming the socks, and slid it under his bed. He was sure it still remained.

Augustine was about to end his snooping when another page caught his eye, it looked recent even though it was stuffed between layers of older documents. In fact he knew it was when he started to read.

_"The victims are irradiated from the initial pulse of the weapon. It serves as a sort of marker that the weapon uses to seek out the intended targets. It worked flawlessly. Correction: nearly flawlessly. I worked on a hunch and preformed a further scan of the Professor only to find that his body gave off similar, no, the exact same radiation readings as before. As true as it is that he was struck on the edge of a target grid, he still suffered effects. I can reasonably assume that he would have eventually died from the exposure without intervention, though there isn't any way to test that. As of now, I'm not sure what to make of this discovery. Perhaps my contact will have some insight."_

Even though that was all that was written on the page, Augustine continued to flip in over and over as though more words would magically write themselves out for him in bright ink. He felt cheated in a way. The one thing he found involving himself and it cut off without an ending. There needed to be some sort of closure.

The stack was collected yet again and balanced in his free arm while his other reached for his cane to steady his balance. Returning to the sink he stacked the remaining pages and folders all while whistling a tune.

"Now where would be like these I wonder." He directed to the Malamar that had been keeping him company. It only clicked its beak in response and shifted its eyes to the open lab door.

"Ah", Augustine thought, "The top scientist has finally arrived."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Xerosic really shouldn't have been as surprised as he was. The Professor got his title for a reason, let nobody claim that the man was a simpleton. There was a strange fondness that the scientist felt at the idea of Augustine taking matters into his own hands and reading Lysandre's documents to gather his own intelligence. Even the fact that he snooped into his own files made him more proud than anything else.

"I hope that you don't think any less of me." The scientist said in a casual manner, but it didn't change his concern.

Augustine shook his head, "No, I've grown use to things being kept from me."

The Professor didn't intend for his statement to be taken as a jab, but Xerosic certainly felt it. He couldn't be too upset about it however, it was what he deserved for being dishonest.

"Well, I would like to talk about those findings on your return if you'd be so kind." His hand reached out and Augustine shook it.

"When I return... Thank you, Xerosic." His hand slipped weakly from Xerosic's grasp and after a brief moment of hesitation he made his way out into the red stained halls. Their eyes met one last time before the metal doors slid closed. The Professor was marking his own path now.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Just as the scientist theorized, he found himself with a visitor in his lab. It was barely ten after twelve when the shock of red hair caught his vision, despite being shielded behind tinted goggles. Two large hands pressed into his work surface. The tall body impeded his ray of light needed for his work. With a puff of air pushed through his nostrils, he swept his project to the side. It consisted of a crudely constructed full face helmet with a visor that was meant to illuminate, it was dull and gray from lack of paint.

"I was wondering when you would come by." Xerosic said in a matter-of-fact way. He didn't bother removing his protective eye gear, settling instead to adjust the fit as he shifted his full attention on his boss.

"Where is Augustine?" Lysandre asked with an inkling of panic, he wasted no time with pleasantries.

The scientist took his time with his answer. Choosing instead to clear more of his work space and make himself comfortable in his waiting chair, "Would you like to sit?" He asked, again avoiding the question posed.

Lysandre reluctantly joined, his legs bent up in an uncomfortable angle from the short seat. His fingers drummed against his knee impatiently. The rest of his body fidgeted as though he couldn't get comfortable.

Now that the Flare Leader was sitting in front of his top scientist, Xerosic took the opportunity to try to read him. The Director looked irritable, possibly fearful. Which was something new that the scientist rarely saw in his boss. There was just a hint of shadow underneath his eyes that suggested he was already weary. After taking another moment to formulate the story he chose to present, Xerosic answered his question, "He stepped out just a bit ago to get some lunch.

"Then I'll wait for him to return." Lysandre shot back, not missing a beat. His fingers ended the drum roll they chose to play on his knee and instead clawed into a mass of fabric, wrinkling the carefully pressed slacks. The redheads jaw was set stiffly, his whole body wound up like a tight spring. 

Xerosic wasn't surprised by the reply. He expected his boss to be stubborn, problem was he was prepared for it, "He won't come back if you remain." It was a pretty easy lie considering he was certain that it wasn't much of one. The best lies are often scattered with truth, but of course the Director knew that.

Lysandre opened his mouth to retort, but Xerosic cut him off before he could even breathe a single word, "I'm not certain what happened between you two, but I have my guesses", It was hard to prevent his tone from becoming critical. If there was ever a time for someone to be critical of Lysandre's actions, this time would suffice, "My advice is for you to give him some time. You can't keep breathing down his neck all the damn time." The final words were dangerous, as though Xerosic was a protective parent threatening a child's date. He cared little how his tone sounded at the moment. The entire drama was exhausting and irritating, though only Lysandre deserved to endure the second part.

The redhead's mouth clicked shut, stunned to silence or perhaps he didn't have anything to say. His frozen expression hinted at the first one. Soon he stood and straightened his wrinkled pants, also taking a moment to smooth his shirt collar. To the untrained eye he looked flawless, the very picture of leadership that his followers were accustomed to. Of course Xerosic knew the truth, he had witnessed the Team Flare Leader at some of his worse moments. Not that it changed his mind in following the man, others may have been swayed.

"Don't try to hunt him down at this time. I can promise you that it won't do you any good." It was sound advice he thought, whether or not it would be followed was yet to be seen.

After another pause, stale blue eyes shifted to the top scientist. Lysandre nodded and excused himself, his hand rested at the exit's handle, "I just want him to know how sorry I am."

The dominating tone reserved for the Team Flare Leader slipped, leaving him sounding truly spent, dismal, and guilty. Xerosic took no pleasure in it, not like he possibly would have in the past. He did not offer any comfort to the Director, however. Such a thing was reserved for those that deserved it, Lysandre did not.

He knew that it seemed, so comfort wasn't requested. The Director knew all too well that he made a mistake. Augustine's fear filled eyes continued to haunt him. He just hoped his actions could be salvaged. He pleaded that this wasn't the final act that would seal their fate. He was fumbling, desperately gathering up the broken pieces hoping that they would fit back together and mend like new, it was an unrealistic hope. There was an ache that latched into him like hooks attached to wire, tearing and ripping out chucks. Lysandre didn't care, each jab and tear reminded him that he deserved it.

"Just tell him that I love him." His voice coarse and gruff from holding back his own sea of emotions.

Xerosic sighed, "I will let him know, Director." It wasn't as though he didn't feel for him, but sometimes there needed to be a bit of suffering before blinded eyes could see. The Director had to suffer alone, only then could there be any hope for the future he wanted to keep with his partner. Xerosic had his doubts though, not that he would share that with Lysandre at that time. He wasn't sure what could be saved between them now, but he supposed there was no harm in trying.

With another flash of bright hair and a click from his door, the scientist was alone again. He slumped lower in his seat and ran his hands through his slicked back locks. He grimaced when a few strands pulled loose in his combing fingers. He was only indirectly involved, but even that was nearly too much stress for a man his age to deal with. He couldn't even bring himself to continue his project, not when something continued to unsettle him. What if the Professor didn't return? What on earth would he say to the Director then?

 

* * *

 

There was a wall that separated the two sections of the city. Not a literal wall that divided the light from the dark, it was simply a mentally maintained barrier forged from routine. Augustine stood at the border, not even the tip of his cane dared cross the unmarked line imagined before him. The hum of electricity sounded too damn loud at the moment. The angry buzzing invaded his mind and made it difficult for him to focus. Especially when compared to the dead silence that was offered just across the way.

He felt like a Furfrou trained for an electric fence. The collar may have been removed, but the fear remained that he would be shocked if he traveled out from the barrier. He hated the thought that he was conditioned to obey. Perhaps he had remained passive for too long, fine with staying in his marked pathways. It was unknown how long he stood between the two sections, trying to muster up the courage to cross over. The first step was the hardest, the second came easier. After that the steps flowed without much restraint.

The older buildings that made up the southern half of the city sat dark and forgotten. Boarded up windows and doors prevented the lone traveler from seeking shelter inside. Not that there was much to see inside the hollow buildings. They simply stood as empty vessels of an era soon to be lost to the future.

The automatic doors of the Pokémon Center did not whirl to life at the Professor's approach. It wasn't until he pushed, forced the doors to allow him access that he could step inside the historical relic. The PC was darkened and useless. The storage program was swiftly taken offline even before the Professor became aware. Augustine's fingers traced tight circles in the sleek counter and memories of bringing injured pokémon to that very center flowed forth.

He could almost remember Nurse Joy's vibrant, smiling face and sweet comforting words.

_"Professor Sycamore! Don't worry your pokémon are in good hands-"_

Almost, her voice was hard to pin down completely and the delicate details of her face were blurred in his memory.

It was distressing to think that he may someday forget the voices and faces of people he use to see quite often. There weren't even any salvaged pictures that he could hold on to. He couldn't uphold the memories of all the lost, even if he wished he could. All he had were the memories that he held protectively, hoping that they wouldn't fade to nothingness.

Even his own identity felt victim. So many were afraid to call him Professor, so they simply called him by his name. In the past he would have been ecstatic. He loved being referred to as Professor Sycamore, but it was nice at the end of the day to simply be Augustine. Now he was always just Augustine. It was only Xerosic who chose to address him exclusively as Professor. What the man's reasoning was Augustine didn't know, but it helped to provide some amount of normalcy to his otherwise abnormal existence.

At the back of the center held the empty shelves of the small convenient mart. The Professor stepped behind the counter. The cash register's drawer sat open, paper bills with no value were still stuffed inside. He had no urge to grab any and stuff it into his pockets. So much trouble for money, in a way it was nice for it to be useless. Even if Lysandre fancied a world where greed didn't exist, people would find a replacement.

It wasn't normally in Augustine's nature to be such a pessimist. No, he wasn't being a pessimist. Augustine fanned a stack of cash in his grasp, he was simply being a realist. Sure there would be an era that Lysandre could be proud of, but that would pass. The bills crinkled before each one proceeded to be ripped and left to litter the floor. Once that passed, the world would forget and go right back to how it was before. Then the cycle would repeat, a never-ending loop that birthed no victors. 

A gleam of white caught his eye. Stuffed at the bottom of the counter behind a mess of empty wrappers and bundles of plastic sat a single pokeball. A premiere ball to be more precise. Augustine held it in his palm, allowing it to roll in his grip.

"What a discovery," He spoke to himself in a mockery of his own voice, "I wonder what the ancient humans used such a device for?"

He clicked the capsule open, empty of course, "Humans before the purge had strange customs..." The capsule was forced shut under his squeeze.

Augustine made his way to the exit. The pokeball was left at the nurse station nestled in a tray that would hold a team for healing. It was a meaningless gesture. Done simply for the sake of it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The abnormal quiet made the Professor's ears ring. He almost wished that visions would visit him just so he could have some sound to end the stilled air. He was left alone however, nothing chose to haunt him now.

The lab's tall structure seemed intimidating now that he stood outside its doors. The lawn was overgrown and rather dry. There weren't any dots of color from planted flowers, just dusty patches of earth. He leaned himself against one of the stone statues that framed the fence. It felt cool and comforting against his stressed muscles. Augustine winced once he rubbed his wrists, he rotated them in the bleak chance that they wouldn't get stiff. It wouldn't matter much, they would most likely become stiff regardless from the injuries.

His movements eventually made progress to the doors of the lab. It feel labored to pull them open, the hinges cried and complained from lack of use. The hold eventually loosened and the door finally relented, allowing Augustine to finally enter his old lab and home.

Not much changed from the last time he was able to travel through the doors, not actually walk however. It felt different now that he could control his own movements. A stack of mail was still piled at the receptionist's desk. It was collected and shifted through as though the everyday tasks of the laboratory could continue unhindered.

Bills, mainly just bills. It wasn't until he got to the bottom of the stack that he saw it. A letter addressed to him. The mint green envelope didn't even have a return address stating who it was from, but he didn't need one to know who had sent it. The immaculate handwriting gave it away.

The seat behind the desk let out a poof of dust as Augustine dropped his weight into the worn cushion. He carefully handled the envelope before working up the nerve to finally reveal its contents. It was a handmade card of stamped brown parchment. The same minty green lined the bottom edges from lace ribbon. The corners were decorated with small glittery silver beads and trailed into the center and bordered a layered paper cutout of a dianthus. In white ink spelled the words, " _You're invited."_

 The Professor took a shuttering breath before continuing. His tender fingertips pressed the paper flower before opening the card.

_Augustine,_

_I would be so blessed if you would join me for my thirty-second birthday. The party will take place the seventeenth of November at my family home in Dendemille town. You are welcome to arrive when you please of course, though the party won't begin until three. Other than your presence, you may want to bring the pair of ice skates I bought you last winter. I'm sure you'll improve from the last time dear, besides you told me that you wanted to practice. I do hope to see you there even if you do not wish to ice skate with me. We hardly have the time anymore to simply sit and chat about our lives. I'm sure you have much to share. You have my number, I hope to hear from you soon._

_With love, Diantha_

The Professor's eyes glistened, but no drops fell. he just couldn't find it in himself to cry at that moment, not that he wasn't sad. It was certainly a negative feeling he felt continuing to grow like a weed in need of pruning. It felt like a thorny vine twisting into his cavities attempting to find an opening to burst forth. It was a familiar thing to the Professor so it failed to cause a further reaction in him.

There was something else though, a surreal feeling that spread throughout the building. In the untouched space of his lab everything was left just as it was before. Machines, though devoid of a power source, appeared ready and able to continue their once daily tasks. It was odd he thought as his hands held the wooden railing that traveled up the entirely of each flight of stairs, how everything remained. It was almost like he could enter a room and find his staff waiting for him, but he knew better than to hope for that. He continued to use the railing for support while his careful steps lead him up to where his office lie.

He could just remember the flurry of desperate panic that he felt the last time he stood in the space. Papers that he vaguely recalled sending into a spiral now formed a thin carpet around his well-worn desk.

Every step that disturbed the paper covering sent snaps and echoes that sounded almost startling in the otherwise quiet room. Augustine circled his desk until he stood back at his usual station. Where he very well could have still been studying another report had things not turned out the way they were. Without any real meaning he mimicked the motions he repeated in the past. His gaze settled on the useless ink that covered each page spread out before him. Slowly his fingers brushed the walnut finish of the desk's surface, freeing caked on motes of dust so they could float free in the air.

Out in the hall the Professor couldn't stop himself from jabbing a cuticle-torn finger at the elevator's darkened call button. He held the finger still while he mentally scolded himself for his foolishness. Of course the elevator would be unusable. The staircase was used to descend instead.

His steps weren't rushed like his prior movements were on the same staircase. He was not throwing his body down the levels to increase his speed. There would be no moments of injuring himself from rolling an ankle on a bad landing. His calm pace continued out into the main lobby until Augustine rested his free palm against the rigid doors that opened out into the daylight.

There he allowed his forehead to thump against its surface and soon the rest of his body followed suit, causing his body to be supported by the frame. His cane fell onto the floor as his other palm moved to brush against the peeling finish of the door.

It was too late he had to remind himself again. No matter what that would always be true, he was too late to stop Lysandre.

It was far too much effort to peel his body from the frame, but eventually he prevailed. He walked only to stagger, his shaky steps refusing to hold him without artificial aid. So the cane was once again collected. His chafed wrist stung from his weight.

Augustine was so tired. Just so damn tired. His head shook violently as he turned to look at the exit. It was too soon to return, he just couldn't face Lysandre yet. So after taking a much needed moment to calm himself his steps became stronger and the Professor made his way to the back garden.

Thick, winding grass threatened to tangle his feet as he traveled through it. If it wasn't for his long pants the grass blades may have even cut paper-thin marks into his skin. The Professor was not deterred, he continued on until he reached the central tree that overlooked the stagnate pond. The last remaining bits of water were just about choked out by thick beds of weeds. The garden wasn't what one would call beautiful by any means, yet Augustine felt strangely calmed.

 He slowly flattened out a section of grass and curled up on his side, disappearing from immediate view. The greenery was cool on his exposed palms and neck. He turned his head up towards the ceiling and found that he felt safe bordered by the growth. It framed his vision, the grass, the strong branches of the nearby tree were fanned out across his view. Each interlocking limb was bursting with colorful leaves. Augustine blinked when one dropped onto his face. He carefully plucked it from its landing place and twirled it between his fingers. It was speckled with dots of yellow and upon further inspection the remaining leaves were starting to turn warmer shades as well.    

Weariness continued to loom and heavy eyes were soon blinking for longer with each that passed. The border of green soon grew blurry and even the branches that rose to the top of the glass ceiling blurred out from his vision. The speckled leaf fell from the Professor's grasp and his eyes firmly closed. Slumber claimed him.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

"Professor, wake up." Whispered a young man's voice. Despite the youth behind the tone there was an air of confidence that flowed with each spoken word.

There was gentle shaking and nudging at his shoulder trying to stir him, yet the Professor refused to move. He was far too comfortable, the air smelled too fresh, and the coolness in the shade felt too relaxing.

"Just a few more.." He yawned without opening his eyes to see who was touching him.

The hands drew away, "Professor Sycamore, this is why you shouldn't stay up so late. You need to wake up, Sophie is about to test that latest mega stone. You'd hate it if we started without you."

"Eh? What? Sophie?" Augustine sat up in the perfectly manicured lawn of the lab's garden. He brought his arm to wipe the sleep from his eyes only to pause and glance around in bewilderment. In front of him stood his assistant Dexio in his perfectly pressed powder white suit and meticulously coiffed blonde hair. Further off he could see Sina looking their way trying to cover her mouth to prevent from laughing. She wasn't being very successful and Augustine couldn't help but want to join in once he saw the sparkle in her eyes and the easy way she flipped her dark hair off her tan cheeks. 

A Zigzagoon that was more fur than anything else darted out from a flowering shrub, brown eyes were full of mischief as it proceeded to trample across the Professor's stomach while he was distracted.

"Oof!" He held his gut and took a moment to recover before he finally took his assistant's waiting hand and rose to his feet. A few bug Pokémon eyed the Professor and chattered amongst themselves as he walked under the drooping branches they rested on. A Psyduck floating happily in the crystal clear pond caught Augustine's curious gaze while a pair of Marill splashed in the shallows. Everything looked so perfect, like the very embodiment of the Professor's most strived for dream for his future. His eyes fell shut as he simply allowed the atmosphere to sweep up around him. Every chirp, every cry, every sound he feared he would only ever hear again in fragments at the height of his insanity filled his senses. It may have seemed like a mess of sound, nothing even resembling a melody, but right at that moment it was the sweetest song to grace his ears.    

"Are you ok Professor?" Dexio's hand had yet to disconnect while he observed his boss with much concern, "You seem bothered by something?"

"Huh?" Augustine simply blinked, "Oh, yes of course. I just..."

What could he say? It wasn't like he could tell his assistant that he was just having what felt like a living nightmare. That everything he worked for meant nothing and he let down the ones that relied on him the most. That he was so certain that even though Dexio stood before him now, he was talking to a ghost and everything around him was just a sick trick that his mind chose to form to haunt him. Or was it?

 The Professor looked down at their touching fingers. Dexio certainly felt real, his hand was warm and his bright face looked full of life. The pokémon in the garden were playful and healthy. Everything felt so unbelievably real in that moment, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that it was nothing more than an illusion. He didn't wish to trouble his assistant with that fear however.

 Before the Professor could dwell further a recently hatched Squirtle nuzzled into his leg demanding attention. Tiny coos were followed by bubbles the small female managed to produce, they hovered in the air harmlessly before popping out of existence. Augustine happily obliged and lifted the tiny hatchling, he instinctively rocked her in his arms as he and Dexio met up with Sina who held the back door to the lab open for them.

"Good morning Professor." Chirped the always cheerful receptionist, "I tried to tell them to let you sleep just a little bit longer. Oh! There is a card here for you." She waved the mint green envelope in the air.

Augustine smiled sweetly, "Merci, I'll check it later." The baby Squirtle made another small sound and soon the Professor bounced his steps to the little one's delight.

The receptionist filed it away with the rest of the mail and turned her attention to her waiting coffee cup. Her smile was infectious and hardly hidden behind her mug.

"Sophie is waiting for you in her office." Sina announced. She approached, scratching the hatchling that the Professor held under the chin, "You are a spoiled baby, yes you are!"

Augustine rolled his eyes and brought Squirtle up to his face and nuzzled her nose, "Don't listen to her." He handed the baby to Sina's waiting arms, who proceeded to cuddle her protectively.

"I shouldn't leave Sophie waiting any longer, I'm sure she will grab Cosette if I dawdle." He grabbed his lab coat that Dexio supplied and slipped it over his arms, "Merci again, let's see what type of mega stone we have this time!"

He triumphantly pulled open the door to Sophie's office and walked in with a spring in his step ready to get back to the work he truly loved. The door came shut with an echoing click and Augustine turned to find Sophie slumped over her desk as though asleep.

"Sophie?" He called while his steps slowed their movement towards her desk, "Did you miss your coffee this morning?" He let out an awkward chuckle that bounced savagely off the walls.

There was no answer.

The office appeared like it was cast in a dull wash, like a filter placed on a photograph. The once bright, welcoming colors were now drained like the eyes that flashed across them. The air suddenly tasted stale with each passing breath which caused the Professor to cover his nose and mouth with his sleeve. The current picture he was being presented with wasn't one he wished to keep.

"Sophie?" He tried again, moving his palm to rest it on her shoulder.

She felt cold even through the fabric of her own lab coat.

He hastily brushed the hair behind her ears so he could see her face. He couldn't even voice his shock as his body leapt with a start at the sight of her glazed eyes and sunken features. Her body was frozen and stiff in her seat, skin drained from her settled blood.

"N...No, Sophie, how." Both of his palms pressed into her icy face, he fixed her glasses back to their proper placement even though it didn't matter. Her cold skin nipped at his shaking hands, but he refused to remove them, "Oh please no, I don't want this..."

Tears formed in the Professor's eyes as he finally staggered back from his assistant's desk, "I'm so sorry." He whimpered, turning on his heels to escape the scene. He crashed into the door before fumbling with the knob to twist it open, freeing himself from the horrible sight.

He soon learned that there was no escape as he returned to the lobby. His receptionist was still at her station, her head lolled to one side and arms dangling like a puppet cut from its strings. Her lifeless eyes bore into his and Augustine tore his away to avoid the sight. The rest of his staff was nowhere to be seen, but he was already fearing the worse.

"Hello!" He yelled, pushing his voice so it could be heard throughout the lab, "Is there anyone here!?" Augustine's jaw clenched and his heart beat fiercely as he ran through the building. Each room he entered punished him with the grim fate of each of the members of his employment. Each corpse caused more panic to rise and tears to stream as the Professor ran around frantically, looking for anybody who still breathed.

He found Cosette in the lounge, she was curled up in a ball which only served to remind Augustine of how young she was.

"I'm so sorry." He sputtered. His sleeve dampened from his constant wiping, "I failed you."

Dexio and Sina were huddled together, which gave the Professor little comfort. Sina's eyes no longer sparkled and the pair looked struck with fear.

"Please don't leave me alone..." He nearly wailed, Augustine's knees cracked against his hard floor near their bodies. His hands reached out and clutched both of theirs , there was no warmth like before.

They were gone.

The back garden was still. Not a single blade of grass rustled until it crushed under the Professor's shoes. He couldn't bring himself to view the many bodies that scattered the lawn. There were no shaking branches or pokémon darting between shrubs and bushes. There were no pokémon floating in the clear water while others played and splashed.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but Augustine couldn't help the ache it caused in his heart. He felt constricted. He could almost picture the thorny vines trapped in his body twisting forth from the gaping hole in his chest, cutting into his flesh and strangling the life from his body.

"I want to wake up..." He whispered, "Please, I can't take this."

No matter how much the vines twisted, Augustine wouldn't die. He could only continue to feel the pain until it chose to release him from its clutches. Thankfully, there was pity. Soon his wish was granted and his eyes slowly fluttered open.

 

 

Everything resembled spilled ink against the ceiling glass. A careless mistake in the dark creating images with little purpose or direction, just formless shadows against a dim canvas. The view slowly clicked and focused into sharpness with each blink of damp grey eyes. It was late he made a note of and with how stiff his body felt he must have slept for a horribly long time. Augustine tried to strain his eyes to see the time on his watch, the glowing hands assisted.

"9:30... how?" He let his arm fall back against the makeshift cushion of flattened grass, "Thirty minutes until curfew." His mind droned. Slowly, as not to cause further pain in his body, he pushed his aching limbs up so he could see over the tall plant wall. He could barely make out the back door that lead into the main section of his lab. He was just about to pull himself to his feet when a flash of light caught his eye and stalled his movements.

He watched the open door intently as though he was Watchog on alert, every fiber of his being screeched to a halt and waited for instruction. Sure enough the bobbing beam of light returned accompanied by a voice he  knew, but wasn't extremely familiar with.

"Augustine! Hello, can you hear me? Please come out, a lot of people are worried about you!"

The Professor quickly flattened back against the crushed grass, whining a bit from the hard motion. He hoped that the growth would be thick enough to keep him hidden from the flashlight's beam. He froze his breathing when he heard the sounds of steps moving through the garden, "Augustine! Are you here!"

"No." He mouthed to himself before freezing again as the scientist known as Bryony approached. All she would have to do was simply turn her torch his way and there would be no doubt that the light would reveal him. Augustine pressed his eyes shut until the tension nearly ached and simply focused on keeping his breathing silent. He wasn't ready. He couldn't allow himself to be returned to Lysandre quite yet.

A loud chime from the woman's holocaster almost caused Augustine to leap from surprise, he was thankful that his slight lurch had gone unnoticed.

He could just make out the sickly bluish glow caused by the hologram that was projected, "My team is still searching Director, so far it looks like he is not in his lab either."

"That... That can't be." Came Lysandre's garbled voice, "Keep searching we need to make sure he is safe."

Augustine tore his view away from the flickering hologram once he heard Lysandre speak, _"How can you talk about keeping me safe."_ His mind bitterly spat, _"You are the one that has harmed me the most."_

"Of course sir," Bryony responded, she released an exasperated groan when the hologram flickered away, "Great." She breathed as her free hand ran through her lush green hair. If she wasn't in her bright uniform she could have almost blended right into the surroundings. Her focus turned back to the door behind her, "Let's search upstairs, his apartment is on the fourth floor. He could be hiding there, try not to scare him." It was hard not to notice how tired and drawn out her voice was as she called back to the main lab.

Augustine caught a few far off voices answer with a "yes ma'am!" After that Bryony turned to leave, the grass parted around her as she pushed through. The light of her torch just barely traced a line at the border of his hiding place. It wasn't until she exited the garden that the Professor allowed himself to take a deep gasping breath. There was no time to waste now he knew. So with his cane held firmly he rose and planned his path.

There was another door at the side of the garden that opened up to an alleyway that ran up the side of the old building out into the street. It was typically used when Augustine would call for repairs, the space outside was large enough to park a small work vehicle. As long as he stayed low he could probably sneak out that way. As long as there wasn't other members of the search party waiting outside the building.

His mind was made and in the dark that was sheltering him as well as hindering he made certain to make a wide birth around the area he thought the pond sat. He still made sure to test his steps before he confidently allowed his weight to lean into them. The tall grass and overgrown shrubbery tangled his feet to the point of causing him to have to uproot plants to keep moving. By the time he reached the glass door he was sure that he had already wasted too much time.

By great luck and blessing was the Professor able to push the door open without noticeable disturbance. That didn't mean that the sound produced didn't sound alarming to Augustine. He slid through the only gap he dared to make and knelt down by the brick wall that bordered the lot.

He winced and cursed under his breath when the door clicked back shut with much higher volume than expected. So he simply remained still for a moment, his head craned towards the glass and ears intently trying to discern the most subtle of clues.

Then to his dismay he heard something. Bodies moving through the growth and hushed voices calmly calling his name. Instead of giving up, instead of meeting the search party and putting the night to an end, he broke out into a run.

It wasn't a graceful display. He was a three-legged creature caught out in the new moon, staggering across streets and passing under dead lamps. The buildings were still barring him from entrance and in his new rise of panic he was more sure than anything he was now being pursued.

He could hear his heartbeat all the way up to his ears while he continued his grueling pace. All he wanted was a single building that he could enter, something to use to hide away in a shadowed corner until he was ready to reappear. Then he saw it, the cafe he use to frequent. The large arching openings made it difficult to block off from intruders and at the moment Augustine was thankful for any offered shelter.

He scrambled inside so he wasn't on the sidewalk and filed himself away past the many empty tables and upturned chairs. The large space didn't offer much of a barrier, but it would at least cause his discovery to be prolonged if just for even a moment longer.

It was horrible how much his chest bloomed with fire from his ragged breath. Certainly, he thought, if anyone was on the street they would be able to hear his obnoxious breathing. Everything continued to hurt, physically and mentally. The long nap he managed only proved to aggravate his condition instead of relieve. Now in the darkened cafe his agony chose to attack once again.

The Professor's painful limbs cried out until he made the attempt to settle them in a recovered chair. It was pressed against the furthest wall from the entrance in a vain effort to keep him hidden from immediate view. He felt used up and his body felt limp and useless. His leg slid out and kicked debris across the filthy flooring, startling him slightly from the sudden jolt. The heaving breaths continued their rapid pace and his heart beat against his rib cage and demanded freedom from its prison.

There was a clink of dishes that caused his body to lurch and his chest to tighten further.  His darting gaze found no source to the strange sound. All his vision offered were swirling shadows that twisted into vaguely humanoid shapes to add to his building paranoia. Augustine's whole body quaked as the stress wrapped its tendrils tighter and tighter.

"I can't breathe." He choked. His lungs sucked in air faster and faster until his head spun and his vision blurred, _"I need to calm down,"_ His mind begged.

The Professor could rationalize it all he wanted, he knew he was having a panic attack. That didn't stop it from continuing. His gasps grew louder and eyes desperately scanned for causes of surrounding sounds. The cafe swirled with his vertigo, he was certain without the chair he would plummet onto glass and dirt covered floors. His lungs burned like an inferno as the attack coiled around him tighter.

Another sound, eating utensils striking a plate, a sudden laugh of cafe diners that had no discernible origin. His blurry grey eyes blinked, not trusting the sights that soon flashed. Patches of dark were stitched together with bright moments of bustling cafe events like an ever changing quilt.

 He blinked.

A sunny faced waitress was seen plain as day taking an order from an empty, overturned table. The vision tore away just as she turned to the Professor and smiled.

His eyes pressed together tighter.

College students were huddled around a nearby booth, each drinking far too much coffee while they crammed for an upcoming exam. One student rose only to trip over his own feet and send his mug crashing.

The sound drummed into his ears as though the mug broke across his skull, he blinked again and the students were gone.

Every image that appeared warped and changed, light overtaking the dark before it eventually got claimed by nothingness yet again. Augustine didn't realize how tightly his fingertips bit into the side of his chair. He just sat unable to stop the visions from forming and decaying until they finally faded away for good leaving him back in the abandoned remains of the eatery. The only remaining sight was that of a tall figure silhouetted against the large openings of the building. The figure didn't move until it knew that the Professor noticed the presence. Even then it didn't approach too close as though it sensed his fear.

In a case of mistaken identity Augustine cried out at the visitor, "I'm in hell Lysandre! I'm in a hell you put me in!" He released his stiff fingers from the seat, his hands still twisted like claws, and slapped his limp hair away from his puffy eyes, "Just leave me alone!"

The figure remained motionless and waited until the Professor was finished speaking before the  distance between them was closed. The man's appearance came into view even in the dappled black that filled the space. His height was magnificent, even though he didn't hold himself as tall as he could have. Layers of cloth wrapped around his long limbs and hid the bottom of his face from view. A ragged cap rested on his head which added to frame the strip of his face that was visible. The eyes were unavoidable, dark with clouds of white that gave off the impression of limited sight. With the way they stared at Augustine, he was sure this man could see everything even beyond his physical attributes. Augustine simply stared at the visitor, not knowing what else to do. Eventually, the man's eyes took on a softer vibe and the new gentleness soon worked to put the Professor's panic attack slowly at ease.

"Je suis désolé..." The Professor breathed, "I was mistaken."

When the man finally spoke Augustine was shocked to find that his voice was as gentle as his gaze, "Call me AZ, you have nothing to fear from me Professor." He slowly offered a large weathered hand which Augustine weakly clutched.

AZ's grasp didn't tighten, he simply maintained the same amount of pressure that he was in turn given. Once Augustine was lifted from his chair, the giant gathered up his cane and handed it over. Every movement was carefully thought out. Though the Professor gathered that someone with such an unnatural stature probably made a point to think of his every action.

"So you already know me?" The Professor carefully whispered, his shock was unmistakable and his discomfort easily read. Knuckles whitened from his vice-like grip he held on his cane's handle. Even the slight fear that swirled throughout his body, his eyes couldn't look away.

AZ silently nodded before he gave an explanation, "I do. Though only through letters exchanged with Monsieur Xerosic."

The man returned to his full height which quickly made the Professor feel like a child in comparison. Storybooks of ancient giant kings were once brushed aside as exaggeration. Though in a world once full of clashing titans and legendaries that presided over life and death, tales of giants among men shouldn't have been so farfetched. The evidence stood before him cloaked in the same darkness that he was using to hide, yet this man found him.

Augustine continued to stare in awe until words finally formed on his tongue, "What now? Has Xerosic sent you to fetch me?"

The swishing of AZ's white hair signaled that he was shaking his head, he knelt back down so his face was easily seen, "No, I was only here to collect a message." He paused and tilted his head out to the street, "You are being searched for."

Augustine held his gaze and nodded, "I know, but I don't want to be found."

The giant appeared to consider his statement for a moment. Distant voices began to fill the Professor's ears, the search would soon come to an end if he remained.

"Come with me." AZ suddenly offered.

Augustine staggered at the suggestion, "What? Where would you take me?" He had just met this man, but something in his face told him that he was safe.

"Geosenge." He replied plainly and made his way to the exit, expecting the Professor to follow. He did, clinging close and choosing to trust the giant's judgment in not letting themselves be seen. AZ's hand slowly reached out again and Augustine took it without questioning it. The giant's hand completely eclipsed his own, but he found the contact to be warm and supportive. As soon as his fingers secured around the Professor's, he broke out into a faster pace.

 His legs could hardly keep up as the giant breezed down walkways, only stopping to hear whether others were close. Then his grip would tighten in a wordless warning that they were going to speed up again. Augustine would nod his head even though the giant could not see and once again his steps would flow, at that moment he didn't mind that he wasn't in control.

Once through the gate for route four, AZ made a sharp turn into the surrounding forest to back track. Routes five and thirteen would have been preferable to take, but the situation didn't allow them to be picky. The Professor's hand was finally released and he took the moment to catch his breath.

"I don't think," Augustine wheezed, "I have it in me to travel like this all the way to Geosenge, I'll collapse from exhaustion I promise you." As though marking his point Augustine crashed his bottom on a cushion of leaves and twigs that blanketed the forest floor.

AZ showed no signs of annoyance by the Professor's action, "I will carry you." He offered as though it was the easiest thing. Though with the size difference the Professor didn't doubt that AZ could carry him the entire way. There was no time to feel awkward about the offer, Augustine had already gone this far. So he helped himself off the ground, brushed a few leaves from his pants and allowed himself to be lifted into the giant's cradling arms.

Like a parent would hold a child, AZ held the Professor with utmost care. Augustine pressed his face against the long scarf that loosely coiled around the man's neck and drooped past his waist. Strands of white hair swung without care with each careful step. AZ's long legs easily making a stride that nearly equaled three of the Professor's own.

Augustine was glad that he was being carried, that way he could just lay back and watch the patchy canopy they traveled under. He could just make out small cutouts of sky bordered by the treetops. The stars shone bright without the moon present to rival them. The further from the city they traveled, the light pollution lessened and the stars became even more visible in their wooden frames.

 In truth, he may have been frightened to be wandering off the routes at night. Yet, AZ seemed so confident, never did he stop to gain his bearings.  He just seemed to know exactly where he was going and needed to be.

"Why Geosenge?" Augustine asked with a stifled yawn.

AZ's steps continued without pause, his head only inclined slightly to regard the man he held, "You should see the truth for yourself."

Augustine considered, "I don't think I am ready for that." He mumbled truthfully. His lingering stress poked at his guts and his breath shuttered.

Cloth covered arms held the Professor more firmly, "You should rest, the trip will be long."

After that the giant remained silent, as though speaking was the one thing that could tire him. Perhaps it did, Augustine thought, so he pushed further questions aside. Every step the giant made worked to lull the weary Professor into a slumber. He tried to fight it off for as long as his body would allow. There was an anxiety to sleep, he didn't want to go back into his dreams and see the horrible nightmares that he knew his mind could form.

The near melody of shuffling leaves and snapping twigs accompanied with the rhythmic motion continued to lead the Professor further into a sense of calm. His heartbeat was slowed and his breathing steady. He rested his cheek against AZ's body. The man had a scent that was purely of the earth. It reminded Augustine of moss covered stumps, fresh mulch in flowerbeds, and the smell of the forest in the drizzling rain. It was welcoming and familiar, like days spent in the country as a youth with his grandparents. It was thoughts of his childhood spent climbing trees and running through puddles that filled his mind when his eyes blocked away the windows of sky that served as his ceiling. He finally surrendered and allowed his body to truly rest.

 

* * *

 

All the volunteers and peacekeepers wandering the streets appeared wound up tight and frantic from the aura that practically radiated off the Prism Tower. It was a panic that leeched through every plaza, boulevard, and avenue. Hardly a soul understood the exact details of the Professor's sudden disappearance, but most understood that failure in searching for him was not an option.

 Bryony barked orders at passing members from her own growing stress. Dark bags hung heavily on her once vivid eyes. She was no longer enthusiastically leaping around, there were no jokes being shared. She just stared dead faced at her holocaster, the flickering image of Celosia held in her palm.

"I'm coming to join you." Her partner said, it was already clear that she was dressed and ready to exit their shared home to join the search.

"No." Bryony croaked, "This is my task not yours, I can't burden you with this." She forced a smile for the other woman, "Please just get some sleep, one of us needs to be sharp."

Celosia, though soft spoken, didn't relent, "I will no longer watch you work yourself into the ground," Her image brought a hand up as though trying to cup Bryony's face, "I'm joining you, am I clear?"

Bryony nodded, her own fingertips tracing the graceful curve of Celosia's jaw. She was shocked, but more charmed by her strong stance. Before the hologram flickered away the purple-haired scientist pressed her fingertips into her lips, Bryony responded with the same.

At that moment Mable stepped out from the rouge doorway of Lysandre's Cafe only to be met with the sight of Bryony rubbing her eyes and quickly pocketing her device. Their eyes met, green and blue. The green-haired scientist shied away in a fashion that didn't fit the confident air that she typically held.

She spoke simply of business, still not meeting Mable's gaze in fear that her eyes would betray her feelings, "Scientist Mable, I've been informed of your clearance for the evening-"

"Bryony, you are too hard on yourself." Mable's hand was firm, but gentle against the silken fabric of Bryony's uniform. Without her goggles shielding her green eyes, Mable could see just how worn and tired her fellow scientist appeared. Without her sprightly nature and whimsical features brightening her face, she just looked drained and aged. She was a woman that could no longer cling to her twenties. Her laugh lines that were once worn with pride, were now deeper than ever before. They just stood to show that even her seemingly boundless energy had to fade.

Bryony flinched at the contact and forced a fake chuckle at her expense, "There is always room for improvement!" She still couldn't quite match Mable's gaze, "Celosia is joining me soon, we need to continue the search."

Mable nodded and let her hand slip from Bryony's arm. She was relieved to hear that Celosia would be with her. Of all the people that worried about Bryony, Celosia worried the most. It only proved to add to the Peacekeeper's growing guilt.

"We'll get this figured out, please give Celosia my best." The green-haired scientist finally looked up, though Mable could tell that her eyes wanted to remain on the scars that still marked her body.

The two woman parted without another word, just quick nods and a silent language that made it clear that they were both distressed. Mable's heels trotted against the avenue, her pace quick and eager to get to the tower.

Prism Tower was lit up like a beacon, its bright lights cutting through the dark and leaving the whole plaza aglow. It was the first time in a very long time, not since her nightly stroll with Aliana, that she traveled the streets past curfew. A yawn tried to work its way out, only to be blocked. If it was a normal night she would have been deep in her slumber, arms most likely resting against the warm body of her sleep partner.

Mable paused when she rounded the tower to gain entrance, there sat Xerosic back against the sleek, pale walls. He had slid himself to the ground, his knees brought up, and a cigarette in his hand. He took deep puffs on it before breaking out in a coughing fit. The smoke broke from its clouds with each forceful gust and soon wisped away under the glow of the nearby lamps.

"I thought you didn't smoke." She spoke, causing Xerosic to choke and smash the remains onto the pavement. He brought his boot heel down and smeared the remains, leaving a trail of blackened ash and tattered paper.

"I don't." Came his reply once his coughing settled, "It's a shit habit for shit people."

Mable didn't press him about it, she just slid onto the ground next to him, "I'm worried too." She offered, Xerosic forced air from his nose in response. Her loose blue hair flowed over his wide shoulder as she rested her head against him, Xerosic brought his arm over and wrapped it snugly around her waist.

"I can't tell Lysandre the truth..." He muttered, his gaze set firmly on the plaza before them. His free hand clenched into a fist and relaxed, choosing instead to drum his thick digits in an uneven beat, "I really thought that he would return, Mable." His head thudded hard against the wall out of irritation, "How could I ignore the evidence! It was right in front of me! For all we know the Professor threw in the towel and left his body to be discovered!"

Mable slowly shook her head as he continued, "I was the last one to see him..." He trailed off when he felt a soft hand stroke his face.

"He'll turn up. He just needs some time I think." Mable wasn't completely confident when she spoke, but for Xerosic's sake she had to believe that what she said was true. She only knew so much of the situation, even Xerosic could only guess what happened between the Director and the Professor. Normally she would have been bothered by being pulled into a lie, but given the situation she was feeling rather forgiving.

"I wonder what would have happened if he had just died in his bed."

Mable sat up, shocked that such a thing would be said aloud.

Xerosic continued, his tone weary and worn, "He really doesn't belong here, this world isn't for him. Say he returns, then what? He forgets about all of his friends, his family, his research? Is Lysandre enough to replace all of that? We chose this life, we worked to make it a reality. Our peace was made a long time ago, but the Professor was never given that chance. Maybe he just should have died after all." The top scientist dropped his face into his knees, "What do I know though, I know machines and gadgets. I pursued my goals without any care for who it would hurt in the end. Yet, the Professor talked to me as a friend. Even though he knew that I helped to weave the world that he exists in, he still treated me as such."  

Mable had nothing she could say, she really couldn't argue with his logic so she responded with the only thing that came to mind, "We're all monsters to someone in the end."

Xerosic nodded, his body shifted to allow the smaller scientist to get close again, their bodies easily coming together like perfect pieces of a imperfect puzzle that locked together around them, "That we are."

The pair remained close, trying to gain some shared comfort between them. It wasn't a successful task and when the grand doors opened the two disconnected to see who now joined them outside.

Aliana appeared fully decked in her work gear, goggles fastened to the top of her short red hair. A tool belt was wrapped around her hips and she hardly noticed her fellow scientists as she typed away on her holocaster, "Mable!" She blurted, when her view switched from her device. She rushed over, her work boots scraping roughly against the cement, "You're here."

Mable squeezed Xerosic's shoulder affectionately before she pushed herself to her feet, Xerosic continued to sit against the wall.

"How bad is it?" She asked cautiously.

Aliana let out a long breath and shook her head, "The Director wants power rerouted to the Southern half of the city. I just contacted my team, we're heading out shortly."

 Xerosic cleared his throat loudly, "Yeah, that will do a lot of good. Only if he is still in the city."

The red-haired scientist frowned, "If you have some sort of insight then speak up! We're working our asses off out there," She switched back to Mable, "Nobody is going to get any rest tonight at this rate."

There were quick glances exchanged between Mable and Xerosic, but neither had anything to add that would give a clue as to where the missing Professor could be, "Do you need my assistance at the power station." She eventually asked.

Aliana didn't even pause to consider, "No, you are the Director's assistant." She walked past the two scientists before turning to her friend once more, "He is in desperate need of assisting."

After that Aliana walked off, presumably to meet with her team to address the grid. This left Mable standing awkwardly watching her leave. Everyone was on edge, Mable knew this, so her friends attitude wasn't taken to heart. Team Flare always functioned like a single entity in its best moments, however when the head was sick the rest of the body suffered.   

"I should search as well, maybe he'll show himself to me." Xerosic muttered while he pushed himself off the ground.

"Yeah," She agreed, "hopefully he does."

The night couldn't be called young any longer and it looked like Aliana would be right, nobody was going to rest anytime soon.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The elevator ride up to Lysandre's office felt dragged out and slow. Every number that signaled a new floor clicked and disturbed the lone passenger, it only made the trip nearly unbearable. The heavy stress that clung in the air only grew in power the closer the scientist traveled to the Director. When it finally chimed from reaching the correct destination, Mable just about threw herself from the space.

"I wasn't saying no, I just feel like you could tell me more."

Mable paused after the doors slid closed behind her. Standing near Lysandre's desk, her palms pressed against the glossy surface, stood Malva. She wasn't dressed in her typical attire, choosing instead to present herself still in her nightgown. Her long pink hair was pinned to the top of her hair in an almost messy fashion. Despite her clothing, she still took the time to grab a pair of heels and to paint her lips. Leave it to Malva to still find a way to look beautiful despite it all.

Her and Lysandre continued their conversation, not aware or not caring that Mable now accompanied them.

Malva sighed as her long nails gently tapped on the surface of the desk, her sharp gaze trying to pick apart the man seated near her, "Why would he leave? You've given him everything, I can't think of a single soul who wouldn't gush at the treatment."

Lysandre presented himself in a way that didn't really surprise his assistant. She had seen him that way before. His hair drooped from too many moments of his hands running through it, eyes dulled and skin ashen. He was still dressed well she noticed, but Lysandre certainly didn't own a garment that wasn't to his standard. What surprised her was his lack of red in the attire, she was sure there must have been moments that had been true before. Just something about the current image made the fact concerning, it was as though the man before her wasn't himself.

Lysandre brought a mug to his lips, full of what she wasn't certain. When he spoke his voice did not betray his true emotions to the woman leaning over his desk, "There are things not even I could give him."

He placed the mug aside and met Malva's scrutinizing expression, "I have made a mistake, a mistake I must try to make up for. I will not discuss it further with you."

Malva clicked her tongue and pushed herself away from the desk, "I thought you never made mistakes?" The comment was more to herself than the witnesses in the room, "Do you really think that having me send out a report will assist?"

Adding to his drooping hair, Lysandre combed his fingers through the product stiffened ends, "Yes, now would you please?" His hand swung out in a manner of dismissal, which caused Malva's face to flash with disgust.

She didn't say anything about it however. She just nodded her head and made her way to the exit. There was a pause when she came face to face with Mable, but she didn't have anything nasty to say to her fellow Team Flare. Once inside the elevator she simply flicked her view at the other woman and said, "Good luck blue, you'll need it." Mable couldn't think of anything to say before the doors shut and Malva was gone.

When Mable turned she found Lysandre leaving his seat and traveling across the expanse of his office to meet her. As he passed lamps he flicked them off and left the room behind him dark, "I would rather be in my chambers," He paused, "If you do not mind joining me there?"

She didn't mind it, if anything she appreciated it. His living quarters were sure to be more comfortable than his office. If she had to choose a space to wait out the night, the living quarters were preferable. It would be the first time she actually stepped foot in the space, but the offer wasn't seen as strange to the woman. So they waited patiently for the elevator to be recalled.  Once inside, Lysandre slid his keycard into the waiting slot and the pair held the surrounding handrails as they ascended.

To her surprise he parted almost instantly without any form of guidance once they stood at his floor. Lysandre made his way to the restroom and after letting the surroundings sink in, Mable found the kitchen. After a short moment of hunting she found a box of tea and figured that it would be welcomed given the situation. By the time Lysandre reemerged, the kettle was hot and Mable was pouring the water over the teabags. The steam rose from the matching floral printed cups as the teabags became translucent and the hot water slowly changed to a golden yellow.

 The pair sat together at the small table, Mable couldn't shake the feeling that she was invading. With only two available chairs she knew without a doubt that she was accompanying the seat reserved for Augustine. The way the Director stared at his own reflection in his cup, she knew that he wished it was him sitting at the space instead of her. She couldn't blame him.

"Would you like me to cook you anything?" She asked between sips.

Lysandre shook his head, his brushed out hair sweeping his shoulders, "I'm not asking you to be my servant." He finally sampled his own drink, "Thank you." He mumbled.

They sat in silence for a bit just letting the hot beverage warm their stomachs and feel the steam open pores on their skin. The wall clock ticked away like a constant reminder that time was passing without the news that Lysandre craved. His chair creaked when his movements became restless, his leg lightly bounced under the table.

 His cup was placed on a coaster and he let out a long sigh before he felt the need to ask a question, "Do you think he'll return?"

Mable coughed into her drink, dabbing her chin with a nearby napkin. Her mind worked to form a proper response even as the Director observed her with high intensity, "I want to tell you what you want to hear, you know that right?"

She took the lack of response as a clue to continue, "Truth is," Mable let the words brew in her mind, "I don't know what to think. I don't know him as well as you. I think you've been asking yourself the same question and you don't like the possible answer. So you asked me in a hope that I will give you the answer that you want to believe. The thing is though, only you know the answer. Have you created such a rift that he may never want to face you again?" She paused to let the question wash over him, only to continue when he remained silent, "Is there any way that he can find happiness and move on? Like I said, I don't know him like you do. You know these answers better than I."

Mable was sure she could feel Xerosic's pride while she spoke her piece. Her tea was quickly finished in the off chance that Lysandre would now ask her to leave. However, he did no such thing. He just appeared to be processing her own asked questions before finally voicing his thoughts, "He may never want to see me again. I've done something disgraceful, something I will always regret." His grip tightened around his mug, "All I can hope for is the chance to apologize, but some ways I've hurt him I cannot apologize for."

Lysandre stood and took both mugs in hand to rinse them in the sink. He began to dig through a pantry, setting out a mix of ingredients on his central island still talking the whole time, "I can say I'm sorry for the pain I've caused, for that I truly am. I am not sorry for making my dream a reality. This society is better off than it was before and I had hoped that Augustine would begin to see that. He won't, he can't. I can keep pushing, keep trying to get him to understand..."

Lysandre directed Mable to sift flour into a bowl while he snapped pieces of chocolate that he saved to melt  in a double boiler over the stove, "...but I can see now that it isn't possible. He may just see me as nothing but a monster for the rest of his life."

Mable took offered ingredients and mixed them in her bowl. Lysandre was folding the wet ingredients together in his own, he would pause to modify the recipe as needed based on the items he had available. He continued to mix as Mable poured her half of the ingredients into his. Lysandre's pace quickened to blend the batter smooth then he motioned to a nearby cabinet. Mable produced two cake rounds and after cutting out parchment paper to line the bottoms she brushed extra flour against the edges to prevent the batter from sticking while it baked.

Once the cake rounds were in the oven they returned to the table. Lysandre busied himself by scanning through the many messages that filled his mailbox, none of them offered any good news. Mable jumped when his device struck the table with far too much force, "I can't even try to contact him," He lamented, "In his rush to leave he left his holocaster at the nightstand. If he just had it I could have..."

"Tracked him." Mable finished for him, "There is no guarantee that he wouldn't have ditched his device if that was the case." She was unsure if the Professor was aware that he could be traced by his gifted device, it was a feature that was present in each model. As far as she was aware, it wasn't a feature that Lysandre abused very often.

The pair soon turned their attentions to their own devices. Mable tapped out messages to Xerosic and Aliana asking for progress. Lysandre was currently engaged in a conversation with Celosia's hologram, her tone was quiet yet firm.

 _"Bryony is working at her fullest, we all are Director. There is only so much we can do in the dark."_    

Xerosic had caught up with Bryony's team and was offering his assistance, though he admitted to Mable that he found it unfruitful.

_"If he isn't in his own lab, I can't imagine where he would be. This damn city is too large and for all we know he isn't even here anymore."_

Aliana told Mable to tell the Director to be patient, they were still working on redirecting power.

Everyone was working at their fullest, each member losing precious hours of sleep in favor of having the chance to be the one that could give their boss news of success. It made Mable feel strange that she was left to attend to Lysandre instead of joining in the search. She glanced over her device just as her boss ended his call with Celosia. She wondered why he wasn't out searching. Did he think it would do more harm than good? Perhaps, he believed that his presence in the search would drive Augustine further away. She focused back at her holocaster when she felt it vibrate. If the Professor wanted to separate himself from the Director, Mable could see where Lysandre's help would be no help at all.

The alarm eventually sounded for the oven and Lysandre grabbed a pair of mitts and left the cake layers on the counter to cool. His assistant shot a worried look his way when he suddenly cursed, he managed to burn himself while pushing the oven rack back inside.  

Sometime later after his burn was addressed and the cakes cooled, Mable pulled out a dish of pecha berries from the fridge and worked to slice them thinly to fill between the two layers. Lysandre took over once the cake was stacked and expertly towered berries in the center, finishing the whole thing off with a generous dusting of powdered sugar. The cake was covered and placed in the center of the dining table to remain.

Mable never asked why the cake was made in the first place, but she had an educated guess. Besides, the process seemed to work like a form of temporary therapy. As long as Lysandre could tell himself that the cake would be saved for Augustine, he could push aside the building agony that he may never see him again.  

The search continued without breaks on the streets of Lumiose. Bryony continued to flash her torch down alleyways, Celosia at her side directing messages to team members to keep everything organized. Bryony would call out, but never get an answer. Her flashlight only illuminated empty passageways and aged brick walls.

Xerosic sat in the Professor's apartment, shining his light at a collection of journals and notebooks he found stuffed away on a cluttered shelf. He was looking for anything that might give a clue, something that could lead the search on a promising path. Other than the occasional embarrassing passages that detailed some aspects of the Professor and Lysandre's relationship, nothing stood out. It frustrated the top scientist to no end, he just didn't know the Professor as well as he thought. With his actions so unpredictable Xerosic really had no way of knowing if the man, he called the Professor slightly out of spite, would return on his own accord.

Back at the tower things were quiet. Lysandre simply sat and continued to scan through messages. Mable stood at one of the towering windows that overlooked the entirety of the city below. It wasn't a sight she was accustomed to seeing. It was bizarre how cleanly the city separated into the light and the dark, it was a perfect cut down the center. Suddenly the line between vanished and dim lamps soon flickered to life. Mable watched with interest as the whole city was aglow for the first time in several months.

 

* * *

 

Augustine was warm and comfortable, when he shifted thick blankets followed his movements. His eyes were simply slits, filtering the morning glow that was visiting through dusty glass. The Professor yawned and sat up on the springy mattress he found himself in. He felt well rested despite the achiness that still clung to his body. His back popped once his fingers stretched for the wood covered ceiling.

He was still in his clothes from the day before, now wrinkled from having been slept in the entire night. Augustine couldn't quite remember exactly when he was left in the small cabin, but he was grateful for the much needed rest. His cane was left for him against the wall which he collected before standing.

There was a tiny bathroom that was nothing more than a slightly better equipped water closet. He twisted the tap and to his surprise there was running water, though it had to be left on for a while until it ran clear. The cool water was refreshing on his dry tongue even though the metallic taste was strong. He left after addressing other needs and splashing some water on his oily face.

His stomach rumbled loudly from lack of food so he dug through cabinets to see if there was anything  salvageable while also edible. There was a single package of Tauros jerky and some bent cans of mystery substance. After being unable to find a can opener to test his luck, he settled for a few pieces of the smoked meat. He ate just enough to give his stomach something, but left the rest untouched. It just wasn't settling right with him.

His stomach continued to grumble and protest, but once Augustine stepped out from the cabin he pushed his hunger to the side. The view he was graced with was the towering structure of the weapon Lysandre put to use. He knew that there was a weapon, he remembered watching it emerge from the earth from a video filmed by a shaky hand. He still recalled how his coffee sat like bubbling acid in his stomach as he watched the event play out live on his shitty television. That didn't change the shock of seeing it for himself. It was beautiful he couldn't help but take note of, so beautiful yet deadly. The flower-like machine seemed to give off its own otherworldly glow, something more than the light reflected off the crystal surface in the morning sun.

The light around the massive device twisted and warped like a mirage in the heat. Augustine approached, his own body felt abuzz like it could get caught up in the twisting image. His ears hummed and he could make out fragments of tape played out. The morning air filled with the sounds of singing birds and flapping wings. There were other whispers of human voices, mumbles that he couldn't make out, but sounded cheerful and calming. He could just about reach out and touch one of the gleaming edges, rest his palm against the surface and let the current feeling sweep him up and take him away. Just a little closer, he thought, each step made the sounds clearer and fuller.

Two heavy hands came down on his shoulders, breaking him from his trance. Though holding him firmly, they pulled him away from the weapon gingerly. Augustine nearly tripped over his feet as he was turned to face the man who had brought him there.

AZ's face was tense, but it soon passed as he motioned the Professor to follow. They walked, AZ stayed between the Professor and the weapon while they circled the device. His steps were small so that they could walk side by side. The sounds that he heard before became choppy and low as they moved further away from the weapon and down another path. It was overgrown with weeds and brush, a sign that the way hadn't been traveled in a while.

"What are you showing me?" Augustine asked as they stopped in front of a large stone block. There was a pair of doors that looked to be firmly sealed shut. It did not deter AZ however, the giant approached the doors and pulled a key-card from his tattered pocket. Before the card was slid through the lock the Professor could just make out the name _Xerosic Fleischer_ stamped on its surface. His attention shifted to the doors once they quickly shuttered to life and revealed a large lift with a central control that would lead down below.

He turned to the Professor who appeared to understand what it was that he wanted, but that didn't change his confusion, "What do you expect me to find  if I go down there?"

"It depends what you are looking for." He slowly enunciated, his face seemed to urge the Professor to think on it.

Augustine passed his view to the open doorway and soon back to AZ, "I want to see the truth for myself."

The giant nodded sagely and moved aside so Augustine could easily step past and watched as he cautiously pressed a button and descended down below. AZ didn't join, he just remained outside and waited for the Professor's return.

Bars of light ran up Augustine's body while the lift traveled lower and lower into the depths of Geosenge. The lift was too modern to be anything of original design, it was obviously built by a recent group. It wasn't a hard guess to know who.

He wasn't sure what would be waiting for him once he reached the bottom of the shaft, so he just did his best to prepare for the unknown. Once the lift came to a stop Augustine's stomach flipped and lurched. How could he have been so blind, how could have Lysandre kept that place a secret for so long.

The door opened up into a wide room, with a ceiling that climbed nearly two stories. Various tables and consoles lined either side of a central walkway that lead up to a higher platform that overlooked a chamber deeper still. Augustine would be lying if he claimed he wasn't shocked that the walls were not coated with the same shade of red that Lysandre seemed hell bent to cover everything he owned with. The florescence lights, triggered by a motion sensor, slowly flickered to life casting the dull glow over the stark white walls.

They brightened in intensity as the Professor traveled to the top section of the room. He placed his hand flat against the glass that overlooked the large holding chamber below. Augustine shuttered as he peered at the room below. There was a strange energy that gripped him, a pull that told him that was where he needed to go.

So he found the connecting hall and traveled down it while his fingers traced swirling patterns mindlessly into the painted walls. His ears hummed and his nerves felt raw and exposed as he grew closer to the lower chamber. He couldn't place why, but he could feel his anxiety rise. His hair prickled at the back of his neck and his face flushed from a sudden wave of nausea. He still didn't know what was waiting for him, but he knew he was now close. The doorway stood before him and once he took a stabilizing breath he stepped through, ready to face the truth that awaited him.

The room was large like the space before with rounded walls cast with black and shadow, the floor was branded with a rusty color that Augustine couldn't help but link to the sight of dried blood. Thick tubes ran to a central holding chamber that held a massive husk-like object. Its dry surface flaked against the glass and remained lifeless inside.

The Professor couldn't be sure, but if he had to guess the tube held what was left of the legendary pokémon that Lysandre used to power the weapon. A fact he only knew from his own investigations. It was sad really, that such a creature was used to fuel such an end. If only it could have escaped and broke free of its prison, the Professor wondered briefly how things could have changed if that had been the case.

While in thought shadows weaved images at the side of his vision. Voices, familiar yet faint, slowly made themselves known in the space. A strange act materialized before him and soon he saw the images of the children he sent out on their journey.

Serena was hard to miss with her particular style, though the confidence he grew to know was absent in her faded specter. She sank, defeated, looking towards the end of the chamber with a look of anger and fear. She spoke to someone unseen and unheard, a one sided conversation that Augustine was left to decipher.

"I won't join you!" She screamed, "I won't live in a world like that! I refuse!" Her body quaked and her fists hung stiff at her side, "I would rather die."

 There was silence as though each child was listening to another being speak. Calem's image stood at Serena's side, his fingers laced together with hers. Shauna approached as well, her tiny frame was visibly shaking. Serena passed the younger girl a small smile to try to calm her and grabbed her hand confidently. Trevor and Tierno joined the human wall that their friends built, Trevor's hand reached out to Calem who took it and squeezed it firmly in a small gesture to show that they were in this together.

All five children stared ahead, facing an evil that they would stand together against. All of them, being supported by one another, stood ready to accept their chosen fate.

"We won't join you." The group said in unison. Each child slowly closed their eyes, their bodies tensed and braced themselves from the unseen danger. All except Serena, her eyes never left the spot ahead of her.

The Professor wanted to look away, he didn't want to see the morbid play continue its scene. Once he heard it, the sound of Serena's cry, his knees buckled and he crumbled. He watched horrified as her body erupted in a violent seizure, her eyes rolled back into her skull, and once her lungs could no longer push out another scream she fell hard against the floor. Her body now motionless.

The wall came apart and panic rushed through the remaining children. Calem was shaking Serena's body when he yelled out in agony, he made an attempt to escape the cause of his pain, but soon cracked against the floor with similar force.

"Run!" Augustine cried even though the specters couldn't hear him.

Just like screaming at a television, it didn't matter how much the Professor hoped that the children could escape. In the end, what was presented was a chapter that already took place. It was a dark piece that he was unable to influence.

Shauna was the last and after watching her remaining friends drop around her, she simply bowed her head and waited. She flinched as though someone's hand flattened her hair and Augustine could see the smalls rivers that formed on her cheeks.

Her voice was nothing more than a whimper, a small whine, and the Professor was thankful that her end came quick. Once her tiny arm went limp, the scene faded away.  

Augustine folded against the stone floor, his face scraped against the rough surface while his lungs breathed in the dust that coated it. He coughed, strong enough to push himself back up. His legs remained splayed out while his arms hung limply towards the floor. He could feel his knuckles rubbing raw, but he didn't care. The echoes of each child that met their end in the room he sat in still reverberated throughout his skull.

A chill cut into his thin body causing his head to whirl around to search for the source. All words blocked up in his throat, not even a scream could escape. Surrounding him on all sides were the darkened images of each child. Each reached forward, small hands pressing into him. Each hand sent ice shooting through his body, an unbearable cold that he couldn't escape from.

They didn't stare into him with malice or hate, soft faces simply watched the man that they called their mentor in life.

"I'm so sorry." His voice choked before being lost again from his heaving cries.

 _"I failed you!"_ He pounded in his thoughts.

Each child made a motion to touch his tear stained face starting with Shauna. She cupped his cheek the best she could before blowing away like a plume of smoke.

_"I failed you all."_

Tierno's touch was quick and unfelt, nothing more than a single snowflake melting on the Professor's skin, but he knew the intent. Augustine forced his gaze up just as Tierno disappeared.

_"I was so blind."_

Trevor was cautious and slow, his movements brief, yet meaningful. Even without any words Augustine knew that this was his goodbye, it was all of their final goodbye. The Professor's hand moved through the chilled image just as the youngest boy faded.

_"I should have faced him instead of you."_

Serena and Calem watched him with sad eyes, their gazes urging him to cry no longer. It was an impossible task, another thing he would fail to do for them. After their touches chilled his face they stood and faced each other. Augustine watched as they held each other once again and slowly disappeared from the space.

He remained on the ground, finally wiping his raw face on his wrinkled sleeve. There was still the slightest evidence of cold from the ghostly touches, Augustine hoped that they would remain.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

AZ was leaning against a nearby tree when he heard the lift returning to the surface. Once Augustine stepped out, he could see that his mind appeared deeply troubled. Each drop of his foot looked like it took great effort, his face was far more interested in the overgrown walkway than the giant that stood before him.

"They fought him." he mumbled, "They lost and he took their lives himself." Every word came out more and more drained like the discovery physically pulled his energy away. Perhaps it did.

"I saw the fear, I heard the pain-filled screams."

AZ didn't react when the shorter man leaned against his leg, he just brought his long arms down and let his hands rest against the Professor's back. Augustine didn't say anything further, he just focused on breathing and on the earthy scent of the man supporting him. He was lost. He felt lost before, but this time it felt like he was thrown into a maze without an end. He would be doomed to run around inside it until he curled up on his side from his strength failing him. The only guidance that he had was the strange voiceless kindness of the one simply called AZ.

In so few words the giant already opened his eyes to things he could have never prepared himself for. He didn't blame the man, how would he know what truth would show down in the hellish chamber below.

As the two men continued to stand together, Augustine could just make out the far off crackles of noise that seemed to flow off the crystalline flower. They were fragments of another world that he would never see again, replayed for him like a prize held just out of reach.

"Please let me leave this place." He spoke into AZ's drooping scarf.

The giant's hands remained against Augustine's back as he tilted his view. His face wasn't that of pity, but he felt a deep sadness for the man that desperately sought his comfort. Those that searched for the truth were often left to experience the ugly side of it. The man who once could call himself the Kalos region Pokémon Professor was just now learning that sad fact. His time of denial was at an end.

"Do you want to return?" AZ calmly asked once Augustine pulled his face away from his scarf.

He thought about if he was ready, if he could walk back into Lumiose City again. There weren't many other options that made themselves known, the Professor knew since he left the city that he would have to return at some point.

"I am." Saying the words twisted his insides and made his head spin, he was thankful that he was still leaning against AZ.

If the giant noticed the body language he didn't say anything about it, but his lack of voice was hardly a surprise. He bent down so he could easily bring Augustine back into his arms, there was another long journey ahead of them.

Just as the pair entered the forest, following thin walkways once created and traveled by wild Sawsbuck and Deerling, The distinct sound of chirping birds returned. It helped normalize the image Augustine saw as he watched the colorful bunches of leaves pass his vision, too bad the sound was nothing more than a well intentioned lie.

Augustine slipped in and out of consciousness during the walk, it was strange to watch the sky slowly turn warmer shades while his head was supported in AZ's grasp. He must have dozed off again when they finally grew close one of the city's entrances. The next thing he felt was a gentle shake that stirred him. His sleep filled eyes met AZ's own.

The Professor had to take a moment to take in his surroundings once the giant placed him back on his feet. He stabilized himself on his returned cane and marveled at the bright glow that shone from the waiting city. Every light, even the ones that were left dead in the southern half, were bright and nearly blinding. Augustine's free hand worked to rub his blurry eyes so he could adjust his vision to cope.

AZ stayed hidden in the tree line, simply bowing his head to the Professor before the growth hid him from view. It was unrealistic to think that the man would have joined him, but it didn't stop Augustine from hoping. No, he had to do this on his own.

The Professor straightened his posture, gripped his cane tighter, and walked with as much strength as he could through the same gate he left through the night before.

 

* * *

 

He was tired, any rest that was managed was quickly disturbed by panic fueled nightmares and messages of failure that continued to flood in. Lysandre didn't rise when his holocaster chimed, he just let it go straight to his voice mail. He just didn't want to hear the same news. The news that Augustine still hadn't been found.

As soon as his device silenced it chimed again, drawing his frigid gaze. His hand slapped at the device until he held it in front of him, an incoming call from his scientist Bryony. It continued to chime and alarm, almost coming to an end before Lysandre finally chose to answer the call.

"Yes?" He spoke automatically, his resting face didn't reveal his torturous thoughts that nipped at him.

Bryony's hologram lit up, her image did nothing to hide her look of relief, "Director, we found him."

Lysandre's expression instantly changed, he leapt from his position on his bed and gathered up his coat that was thrown at the end of the mattress, "Where are you? I'll be there be shortly."

Bryony shook her head, "There is no need, he'll be arriving soon."

His coat fell from his hand and the tall redhead sank back into his bed, "I see," Lysandre glanced over at the carved doors of the elevator, "Your vacation time has been approved."

He placed the device aside, right beside Augustine's that was still resting on the nightstand, and rose to his feet. A wall mounted mirror gave Lysandre a chance to muss up his hair and smooth out his clothing. Anything else he may have done had to be put on hold once the doors slid open and a weathered version of Augustine stepped out.

Lysandre moved eagerly, only to stop himself from rushing to his side. Augustine refused to look his way even though they now stood in the same space. He wanted more than anything to wrap his arms around the Professor's sunken shoulders and press his lips into his. He controlled himself, even though it was almost physically painful to do so, and just waited for Augustine to come to him.

The distance never felt so vast between them, even when Augustine approached there was a strong sense that Lysandre wasn't allowed to permeate his barrier. It was as though his body would bristle with thorns if Lysandre stood too close, there was a cold hostility that refused to lift.

"Where have you been?" Came the eventual question.

"I'm hungry." Augustine replied with, swatting the question to the side. He was not in the mood to answer anything that Lysandre had to ask.

He lead the Professor to sit at their shared table, his hand not actually making contact. It just awkwardly hovered against Augustine's back. Even that motion caused muscles to visually tense from the near touch. The tension remained even after Augustine sat in his usual seat. Lysandre took the other only after collecting a small plate from the cupboard and a single fork and serving knife.

Augustine already noticed the covered cake and soon took it upon himself to cut himself a wide slice once he had his plate. The redhead didn't join, he just sat mute in his chair while silent eating took place. Once one piece was consumed another one was cut and only halfway through that piece did the Professor slow down.

Lysandre was lost in his own thoughts when a fork suddenly clattered against the plate, Augustine's grey eyes cut savagely into Lysandre's gaze, "What happened to the children Lysandre, how did they die?"

The Team Flare Leader's face paled, "I've told you this already, please we shouldn't delve into this now. You look so tired-"

"Tell me again! I want to hear the truth from your lips!" Augustine held himself over the table, leaving the rest of his cake slice forgotten while he pushed for an answer from the man across from him.

"When I found them, they had obviously died together. It is regrettable, but I believe that they felt little pain just like the rest." Lysandre's words slipped off his tongue like a well rehearsed script.

Augustine's eyes reddened and burned and his nails scratched into the table's surface. Lysandre noticed these clues, but it was too late to address them when the usually calm and cheerful Professor exploded.

"YOU LIAR!" His throat stung from his forced voice, but it didn't stop him, "I saw them! I saw everything." He shot an accusing finger across the table like a thrown dagger, "You killed them yourself, you saw the looks on their faces as you took away their lives. You watched as pain jolted through them, yet you didn't stop."

Lysandre was frozen as the words slammed into him, "How?" He breathed.

Augustine slammed his fist on the table, rattling his plate, "I saw it with my own eyes." He made sure to stress every word. When the Flare Leader still didn't seem to process what it meant he continued, "My visions are real! Everything that I've been seeing, all real. The lives you stole, I see them all around me. I'm NOT insane."

He dropped back into his seat and pushed his plate across the table, it crashed onto the floor and cracked into multiple pieces. Any appetite he once had left him yet again. Lysandre's face remained washed out while he processed all the information that was thrust onto him, then he rose and circled the table. He stood rigid in front of the Professor's seat, his face blank and unreadable.

"Stay away from me." Augustine spat before he was yanked forcefully out from his seat, "LET GO OF ME!" He screamed through a raw throat. He pulled and struggled, Lysandre's hold only strengthening as he pulled the thrashing man into the bathroom. His heels dug into the tiled floor only to slip across it as he was pulled.

The medicine cabinet was thrown open and the small bottle of medication that Augustine was meant to take was collected. He ripped his arm from Lysandre's grasp and the Professor eyed the bottle with disgust, "I will not take that! You cannot force me!"

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" The taller man practically cried, his stress finally bubbling to the surface. He ripped the lid from the bottle and proceeded to dump the contents into the nearby toilet, making a point in ensuring every last one was flushed away. Then he turned back to his partner and collapsed onto the hard floor, his knees making an audible crack against the surface, "I'm sorry!" He openly sobbed, presenting himself in a way that left Augustine shocked, "I'm sorry!" He pleaded again his long arms reaching out in an attempt to bring the Professor close.

Augustine's feet remained planted firmly in place even though the display almost weakened his defenses. Part of him wanted to drop to the floor and be wrapped up in Lysandre's warm arms. He wanted to run his fingers through his loose hair and cry into the dip of his throat. All the pain, everything that continued to hurt, he wanted to scream it all out while his nails cut crescents into Lysandre's skin, maybe then he would feel a small taste of his misery.

The man before him continued to beg. He continued to cry for his forgiveness and remained crumpled on the floor, "I'm sorry..." He sobbed again. The heavy tears fell without barrier against his folded knees.

The part that wanted to go to him continued to pull at his heart, but as he watched the rivers continue to run all he could imagine was the frightened appearance of Shauna whose face held a similar look in the end.

So even though Lysandre sat begging on the floor of the bathroom, even though his pride was cast aside to allow thick streams of tears to fall, even though Augustine saw weakness in the man he loved, he just couldn't go to him. Without a word he turned and left the room. He didn't cast the Flare Leader another look as the door clicked shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music that was listened to/ I feel fits the chapter:
> 
> IAMX-Come Home
> 
> Rob Gasser-Meltdown (ft. Richard Caddock)
> 
> yh-Suppressant (ft. Laura Brehm)
> 
> Ladytron-Destroy Everything You Touch
> 
> Mumford and Sons-Little Lion Man
> 
> Now for some bad news, I've started college classes. I'll still be working towards the final chapter in this piece, but it may be slowed because of assignments.


	13. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During the writing process I found that I have such a vast amount of content that pushing it all into one chapter would be too heavy. I made the choice to extent this story one more chapter. 
> 
> There are mentions of suicide in this chapter.

 

**(Eleven months after the weapon fired, October.)**

The hot summer that held on with stubborn ferocity was finally shifting into a cool, bearable autumn, complete with trees that bloomed with colorful leaves. They were beautiful yet would soon fade to nothing more than bare branches. As sure as a promise, they lined the streets as stripped skeletons signaling in another early winter.  For now the mild weather was still able to be enjoyed by many Kalosians, or rather, Team Flare fateful. The temperatures coaxed many to dig into dressers and find old sweaters that were pushed aside during the warmer months. As was common, most days were interrupted by thick downpours and nights sounding with crackling thunder.  Lightning formed  vicious webs across the sky, filling it with light that rivaled that of the Prism Tower.

It was such a night that soon settled its tantrum and ushered in a placid sunrise. The morning rays trapped themselves behind a set of thick blue tartan curtains that framed a circular window. The slight glow that managed to sneak its way through went unnoticed by the messy head of black curls that peaked out from a mountain of mixed quilts.  

Slowly, the sleepy Professor rolled under his covers and stirred. He reached his arms to the ceiling as though he was hoping to run his fingertips over a missing patch of molding and released a satisfied groan. His frazzled locks were tossed from his lazy eyes and his bare feet met the floor. They remained even though his toes curled from the cold contact and his body involuntarily shivered. He eyed his cane that was leaning against an old table, ready to offer its support. It was collected and used to finally lift himself to his feet because no matter what the Doctor said, he still felt like he needed it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Doctor Duval did well in hiding his surprise when Augustine showed up for an appointment. After missing multiple days of physical therapy and counseling, Duval just figured that the Professor wasn't going to return. It was his right as far as the Doctor was concerned, though only having few patients to work with did cause him to grow curious of the man's condition. Especially when the news of his disappearance reached the hospital.

Now that Augustine stood in his office he had the opportunity to question the man, figure out his current health status. They sat not at his desk, but in a comfortable sitting area with plush chairs and soft decorations much like they used to for all his counseling appointments.

It started casually enough, "How are you feeling today Augustine? I haven't seen you for a few weeks." He waited for a response while he held open the Professor's medical file on his lap.

"I apologize." He murmured before he sipped some water out from a wax paper cup. He placed it on the table in front of him and returned his gaze on the Doctor, "I'm feeling better than I was."

Augustine didn't mean to come across as vague, but he figured very little about his current life was private anyway so he didn't feel the need to elaborate. Duval regarded him for a while and turned his attention to the cane he held firmly in his grasp.

"Could you stand for me?" He asked politely.

The Professor hesitated for a moment before he complied with the Doctor's wishes. He leaned into his cane and was soon standing.

"Huh." Was the only thing Duval offered at first, "Are you having difficulty walking?"

Truthfully Augustine really wasn't, he could get around just as easily as he could in the past, "I get weary sometimes. It just makes me feel more secure to have the added support."

The Doctor nodded, "I see, but you know that you should try to rely on it less."

The two men sat back down into the soft chairs while Duval flipped through Augustine's file, "What I would like to do is get you going to physical therapy again-"

"No thank you." Augustine cut in, "Don't get me wrong, Clarice and Ronald are wonderful, but I..." His voice cut out, "I'm not interested at this time, so I would like to pass."

Duval stopped and looked up from the file, his glasses slipped from his face slightly, "Oh, well it was just a suggestion." His fingers slowly fixed his glasses and he flipped to another page, "The only other thing I have here is your prescription. Do you need a refill?"

Augustine eagerly shook his head, "No, no, that is not needed."

The Doctor's voice softened, "That's good to hear." He scribbled a quick note on the page and gave his patient a kind smile, "I honestly think you would be better off without it."

Duval leaned back in his chair and took a couple breaths, "So what has brought you in today?"

"I thought it would be rude not to inform you that I won't be coming to anymore appointments." Augustine pondered for a moment, "I hope you won't take it personally." He offered the Doctor his own smile, though Duval wondered if it was forced.

The Doctor waved his hand, "No, I won't. I just worry for your health of course, it is my job."

The Professor's eyes wandered the room as though he felt a bit ashamed, they finally rested on a floral print that hung on the wall, "Who has access to my records?"

"The nurse staff and me of course." Duval answered without hesitation, though he knew what Augustine was really asking, "Yes, Lysandre can access them too."

The Professor shifted uncomfortably at the name's mention, he quickly finished his drink and rose from his chair, "Thank you for being honest," He reached his free hand out to the other man, "I hope you understand then why I will not be having further appointments."

Duval awkwardly grasped Augustine's hand in return, noting how tightly and tensely it was shook. He understood completely, but that didn't stop it from bothering him immensely none the less. At first glance Augustine looked improved, he was at his usual weight and his muscle tone was normal. It was the finer details that alerted Duval, his torn cuticles and ripped nails, the new lines that formed around his eyes, the way his knuckles whitened as he held his cane.

"Is there any way that I can convince you otherwise?" He urged.

The Professor shook his head again and hastily released his hold on the other man's hand, "Not unless you are willing to hide things from your _leader_." Duval brought his abused hand to his side, the way Augustine spat the word "leader" it was almost said with contempt.

Something that started off so casually now shifted to something that flirted with the idea of hostility. What it came right down to was the simple fact that Doctor Duval was a member of Team Flare and as far as the Professor was concerned he was not to be trusted. Perhaps it was the fact that Duval didn't fight as hard as he should have when he prescribed him his medication or perhaps that wasn't a factor in Augustine's hard stance. Whatever it was, the man's position was firm and Duval had nothing he could possibly say to ease his concern. 

"I'm not your enemy, I hope you know that."

Augustine slowed his steps, his head turned around to see the downcast expression that hung on the Doctor's face, "I joined Team Flare because I was weak. I didn't want to speak up and tell my wife what I really thought. Now I have to live with that decision for the rest of my life." He rubbed his strained eyes, "I made a vow when I became a Doctor, yet threw that away when the end came. While I remained safe in a shelter many residents in this very hospital, many that were my old patients, were left to die." Duval stood and joined the Professor near the exit, "If you hate me for that I understand, if you don't trust me for my allegiance I also understand. I'm not a good man and I remind myself of that fact every single day. Please believe me when I say that I tried to do right when you were my patient, I'm sorry I didn't do well enough."

Slowly the Professor brought his hand over to rest on Doctor Duval's shoulder. He felt a tug of something familiar. He felt he could sympathize with the other man, both would always feel guilty for words left unsaid, "Thank you, Doctor."

"Eli." Duval replied.

Augustine smiled weakly and shook his hand properly, "Thank you for everything Eli."

Eli Duval watched as the Professor walked out, still supporting himself with his cane. He wondered if the Professor knew the strength of his own steps. Did he realize that his cane was hardly used to guide his movements? These weren't things that the Doctor could ask or explore.  Staying true to his stance, Augustine never returned for an appointment.  

  

~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

His bathroom was small and his shower less than lavish, but the water was hot and it worked out the grime just as well. Augustine let the water run over his face and open his pores. The spray of water caused his skin to tingle and his body to relax under the calming pressure. He leaned against the chilly tiled wall and let his body lazily slip down to the bottom of the shower. His eyes fluttered closed and for as long as the hot water lasted he just let it run over him, only moving to halfheartedly lather up a bar of soap for cleansing.

With one of his old towels wrapped around his waist, he wiped a large circle into the steamed glass of his mirror. His hair was dried and combed, his morning stubble left to go for another day. Augustine grimaced at his reflection and collected a razor. Correction, his stubble was cleared and his chin left smooth. Once he dabbed a small cut with a dot of toilet paper he made his way back into his bedroom, passing by his living area and kitchen that was in desperate need of tidying. The sink was brimming with various dishes he just hadn't had the drive to wash.

He dressed. Something warm and comforting, a soft knit in a forest green and loosely cut trousers that he didn't need a belt for. The only thing he wore on his feet were an old pair of Buneary slippers, the same pair he recalled one of the baby starters ripping one of the ears from. It was a Fennekin he found huddled under his bed with the fluffy ear end stuffed in its toothy mouth, he still had no idea how it got into his apartment and into the bedroom. Not to mention he had no idea how he finally managed to get it out with his fingers still firmly attached. Once promises of belly pats and treats failed to impress, he resorted to diving under the bed himself and grabbing the troublesome beast. After a few bites, some scratches, a nice bump from striking his metal bed frame, and one nasty burn that he needed the first-aid kit for, he finally delivered the grumpy Fennekin back to the ground floor.

He could still perfectly recall the day that the very same Fennekin got selected by a new trainer. He was nervous, he wasn't sure if that pokémon would be the best choice for a starting trainer. Certainly a Froakie or a Chespin would have been less of a headache, they wouldn't leave a scar from a burn he probably should have seen a doctor for. In the end Fennekin was exactly what the young trainer wanted, she never questioned her choice.

_"She's perfect!"_

The same pokémon that only seemed driven to cause the Professor grief and injury was a perfectly well behaved angel in the young girl's arms. It was almost like the pair had been traveling together for many months already.

_"I can already tell you and Fennekin will be great friends Serena."_

The memory almost stung as it took hold without permission, no matter what he did the past always returned to him. He was sure it wouldn't be the last time he was reminded, that was just the nature of his existence.   

Before Augustine left his bedroom, he returned to his bed and straightened out the collection of quilts until the bed resembled something neater. Instead of clumpy bedding that reminded the Professor of a freshly tilled field, it felt smooth as his touch ran across the covers. Faded blocks of fabric, each one pieced together with a loving hand and endless patience. That was how he always remembered his Grand-maman. She would sit in her wicker rocker, another project laid out in front of her. She would bring her spectacles up to the same grey eyes that Augustine shared and look over her pattern before pinning the fabric together. Young Augustine would watch her once her foot worked the pedal to spring her sewing machine to life. Surely there were newer models that were more efficient, but she was never one to replace something that worked.

The work may have taken longer, but the end result could never be argued with. When Augustine was accepted into the University of Kalos in Lumiose City, that was when he was first gifted one of her many quilts. The package arrived early in his first semester and upon opening it the antique floral scents that reminded him of the cottage in the countryside came rushing back to him. The quilt was large, large enough to fit on a bed twice the size of what he was currently sleeping on.

 To those that were not familiar with the process of constructing a quilt would not have understood why the young man in his dorm held it so close to his chest, tears nearly daring to make themselves known. Of all the quilts that his Grand-maman could have given him she gave him, in his opinion, her greatest treasure. It was simply called her flower garden and the many interlocking hexagons certainly formed flower-like shapes. What Augustine knew about this quilt however, was not that she used her sewing machine to craft it, every detail was painstakingly hand sewn. The card at the bottom of the box was the final nail that sealed his fate. It was short, but the words meaningful, " _Mon petit chou, your future is forever bright. I love you."_

His Grand-maman never got the chance to see him graduate from the University. She was found one morning still in her bed. Her house was spotless, the sewing room cleared of projects, and her collection of quilts stacked away neatly. Augustine just figured that she missed her husband, his Grand-père, too greatly and was ready to join him. As were her wishes upon her passing, Augustine received many of her quilts. It wasn't until he moved into his apartment that he took the majority of them out of storage. Even then, he kept her greatest treasure tucked away safely. That was until he craved the comfort it once offered him in the past, it was the final blanket that spread across his bed. The flowers, though faded, still looked as intricate as before. 

 His hand rested on the second pillow that took up the space next to the first. They were tossed apart at some hour of the night when Augustine stirred. He hesitated briefly before tightening his grip on the thinned, almost translucent, pillowcase and piled it onto the other. It left a nice neat stack at the head of his bed. The very same pillows were also used to catch the occasional tears that shed without restraint. What did he care now that he was alone? Had he ever cried so much in his life he sometimes wondered?

 He was sure there must have been moments of his youth that fell close. He remembered hiding away after his failure at the Tower of Mastery; Master Gurkinn had not been patient with his boundless list of questions. His eyes grew misty when he left Kalos for the first time, his flight bound for the Sinnoh region. He just about cried again when he left the Sinnoh region. Professor Rowan had been kinder and far more supportive than he was told to expect. All those moments caused many emotions to bud inside him, but he never before had he such a reason to break down.

If he was honest with himself he would admit that sleeping alone saddened him greatly at first. His first night and even the many nights that followed left him restless and nauseated. He tossed and turned and awoke from dreams that fled his memory before he could trap and analyze them. Rest became easier once he dug out an old fan from his closet, the white noise helped to alleviate the silence that took over during the evenings.

It eventually became easier to sleep alone, though sometimes he still longed for a body next to his. He could pretend all he wanted that the body he longed for didn't have cascading red hair when worn down, or an attractive beard that complemented a handsome face. Just because the man, he guilty could almost say he missed, remained nameless in his mind like the mention of it was poisonous, didn't mean he didn't possess one.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The last time Augustine saw Lysandre was when the man emerged almost timidly from the master bathroom, alerted to the sounds of the Professor ripping out drawers and cramming everything he owned into an old suitcase he found tucked away in the closet. Anything that couldn't fit he chose to leave in favor of exiting the tower sooner. Even with the decisiveness, the suitcase bulged at its edges and resisted the inevitable closure, the zipper nearly popping at its seams. The Professor took no care in folding clothing before it was packed away, what did he care about wrinkled garments? Something like that was the furthest from his mind. Oh no, his thoughts still raged and screamed. Every nerve was alive with the pull of escape. Escape and solitude. He would not be locked away, not there. When the tall redhead cautiously approached he was frozen at his ankles by Augustine's hate-filled glare, "Stay away," He hissed between clenched teeth.

His face betrayed him however, his eyes were red and burning at the edges, glistening in the artificial glow of the nearby lamps. Even though he didn't want to, especially at that moment, tears rolled down his cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away, only gathering up the suitcase and storming to the elevator.

"Please Augustine, you just got back. At least wait until the morning, we're both tired." Lysandre still sounded raw and pleading from before and Augustine had to admit that the offer was almost tempting. It was still a shock to see the other man so broken, ready to beg at his feet, and plead for his forgiveness. There was a small moment that Augustine shifted his stance, his expression turned to something less hostile and more neutral.

Lysandre slowing reached out, if just for a moment of being allowed to touch the other man, "I'm sorry that this is so hard for you mon amour." His voice, though intending to be sweet, caused the neutral gaze to instantly shift.

Augustine bristled and pulled away before he could be touched, "Hard for me! You're sorry that it is hard for me?" The Professor felt absolutely sick, so disgusted that he could say such a thing. Of course it was hard, but that was the full fault of the man standing before him.

"I didn't mean for this to hurt you Augustine."

"What did you think it would do Lysandre?" The Professor's jaw tightened and his eye's sharpened, "What delusion do you live in to think that anything you've done would be fine with me." There was a temptation, a strong temptation, to drop his suitcase just so he could punch Lysandre in the face. He was close enough that he could technically do it. Just throw everything into one good punch, maybe a few more after. One for every horrible thing he'd done. He would swing and swing for each child he hurt so savagely, for all the pokémon he robbed from the world, for each and every smiling face he would no longer see in his life, then he would hit him for everything he put him through. The lies, the traps, the abuse, he would beat them all into his body until he had no more strength to put into another swing.

Except, he just couldn't do it. No matter if Lysandre deserved every horrible thing to happen to him, Augustine just could bring himself to truly want that. In the creeping silence he simply turned back to the carved view of the proud Pyroar that decorated the doors. He traced the dips in the wood that formed the hollowed ears and waited for the elevator to grant him entry.   

"Where will you go?" The redhead asked in a whisper, avoiding or having nothing to say about the statements before. His trembling fingers continued to hover in the empty gap that felt more like a growing barrier that would lash out and slice open his perfect fingertips if they ventured any closer.

Finally the doors opened so Augustine could step inside the cherry stained paneled walls, "Away from you Lysandre, as far away as humanly possible." He bit at his cracked lip when Lysandre, just like before, felt the need to block the doors to prevent his immediate escape.

"At least that is what I would like to do..." The skin on his face was dotted with red blotches from surfacing heat in his cheeks. The waves of coiling queasiness dampened his mouth and left it bitter,"...but I guess my lab will have to suffice." His tone trickled down to something sounding so defeated and hopeless, but he wouldn't allow the weakness to be preyed upon.

Augustine's pain and anguish he felt earlier hollowed him out and left nothing but growing distain to fill the void, "Congratulations Monsieur Fleur-de-lis, I officially have nowhere else to go." His dull expression met the panicked-filled blue eyes of his captor, "Release the door." He commanded through his continued distaste.

Lysandre moved, but not in a way that the Professor hoped. His hand moved with desperation to the elevator's controls and before Augustine could do anything to stop him, he forced the elevator to stall, "Just wait-" He tried to beg.

"NO!" Augustine shouted, "There is nothing you can say, let me leave!"

It was clear Lysandre's mind was working at a fever pitch. To say that the Professor wasn't worried as he watched the larger man's body gradually shake would be a lie. Each movement he made was tense and unpredictable, his face suddenly warped in a way that was hard to gauge. There was sadness, panic, anger, these all flashed across the harsh features of Lysandre's face. His ice blue eyes, they were certainly sharp, frigid, and vivid. They nearly glowed, framed with the reddened skin that surrounded them. Truthfully there was a terror that began to spread and pull at his psyche, but to the Professor he was the terror. He had his claimed lover caught like a small creature in a trap, his only exit barred by a ferocious predator claiming to mean no harm.

"You just got back, please," His voice was calmer than his body language indicated. It was a contrast that did little to help his case. He held his hands out in a welcoming fashion, "I promise I'll help you move into your lab in the morning." A promise that he would certainly keep, all Augustine had to do was trust him. He was sweetness wrapped up in thorns, the more he pulled the Professor close the more he bled out from the contact. Only Lysandre wanted nothing more than to stop the bleeding, even though his attempts were only gashing the wounds wider and caused the flow to increase.

Augustine's shoulders slumped and his steps dragged against the floor as he approached the Team Flare Leader. The fear was hardly masked as the two men stood so close in the space. He did not fall into his offered arms however. He just tilted his head so their eyes could merge. Lysandre couldn't see any blue blended into the grey, only stormy clouds filled the space. There was no longer that connection between them, only distrust and fear.

 "Please, just let me go." Augustine's voice rasped.

A pain stabbed into Lysandre's chest as he heard the Professor speak, "I can't lose you." He murmured back.

The distance was so close and intimate between the two of them, but he didn't dare touch even the end of Augustine's wrinkled sleeve. It was torture, all he wanted to do was cup his face and taste his dry, torn lips. His passions could speak the words that failed him. He could sweep him from the confines of the small box, return him to their shared home and shower him with affections. Desperate affections that would strip the Flare Leader raw for his love and leave him exposed. Didn't Augustine know that he would be willing to throw himself from the tower for him. Did he know how much power he really held?

Lysandre wasn't quite sure when the shift took place. His standing in the relationship was that of comfortable control and Augustine appeared content with the arrangement. Now that was torn from him like faded, ancient paper from Rattata chewed walls. All he could do was hope that the Professor would show him mercy in his crippling weakness.

"I can't be your prisoner..."

Lysandre staggered back, his mouth formed pleas that would go without voice. Maybe Augustine was beginning to understand the scope of his power, only he could crush Lysandre Fleur-de-lis so perfectly and beautifully. His quivering hand worked back to the elevator's controls and soon Augustine was released from his hold. The doors came shut with surprising force causing the taller man to jolt. He was left staring at carved panels with a foreign fear that refused to lift.

 

* * *

 

The rising morning disrupted the darkness that hung in each vast, magnificent room that layered the Prism Tower. The expanse of space was intricate, grand, fit for a Kalosian king, and its resident once pleased with that fact. Being left to wander the rooms alone without any comfort of a companion, Lysandre found that the large space left him far more unsettled rather than comforted by his personal domain.

His morning routine was already far into its process and soon he emerged, his hair in his usual mane, his beard trimmed, and his clothes selected with the highest amount of scrutiny. All of it done for partially his own sanity, but mainly for the fact that regardless of what was occurring in his personal life, he still had a society to lead and an image to maintain.

In his office he flipped through requests, sorting them out by importance and acceptance. Various neat stacks of varying heights all covered the dark wash of his desk and left very little room for his ashtray and cold, forgotten mug of tea.

 Visitors would arrive, appointments that were already set aside for him by his assistant. The work would progress like it always would, like it would have to despite any demons the redhead faced. Lysandre didn't allow his thoughts to fill with concern for his partner when there were so many tasks he was meant to manage for his people.

 _Partner_ , he supposed that wasn't something that he could call Augustine anymore. It had been too long since the two of them shared anything that resembled a partnership. Not that the relationship was ever split perfectly center. Lysandre took a lot of personal time in the first week after Augustine left to pick himself apart and dissect the complexities of his feelings. What he discovered was something he already knew, he was afraid of not having control. He loved Augustine, he knew he did, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted to dictate his life. He loved the Professor, but he was afraid of his freedom. He was afraid because if Augustine couldn't be controlled, he could and would most likely choose to leave. That was already proven by the Professor's absence from the tower, he saw an opening and sheared his connection from Lysandre.

Two months and not a word. His messages left unanswered, his visitation denied, the only news he received was that of the few that could pass through the Professor's barrier. Occasional motions were still made to communicate with the man, texts, letters, holoclips, voicemail messages, even gifts which were left completely ignored. The only thing that wasn't tried, though the thought certainly crossed Lysandre's mind, was to barge into the lab himself and demand to be seen. He knew that method would only end in disaster and continue to drive the wedge deeper, so he busied himself with work and continued to play the waiting game.

 Augustine would come around eventually, he continued to tell himself. He just needed the time to be alone and think things through. It really wasn't fair to expect that the transition would be an easy one, but the Professor would manage and adapt. These thoughts brought Lysandre needed peace on the subject, he would adapt and the two of them would get the chance to start over. A new future for them together could still be obtained, he just had to be patient and wait. Augustine couldn't stay away forever.

His nose wrinkled when the disgustingly cold tea passed his lips, it took a bit of restraint not to spit it back into his mug. He left it abandoned and flipped a new heavy bundle of pages in his grasp from the nearest pile. It was a complete list of residents and families with their locations along with skills and current jobs. He placed it within view and lifted the next stack and scanned its contents. Attached was a blueprint for a large hothouse to aid in growing produce throughout the year. It was a project that got lost in the requests and should have been approved months ago. Better late than never, he signed it and added it to the pile that he set aside for accepted projects.

He typed out a message on his holocaster to send to Celosia, informing her that she needed to ready her quickest contractors for an upcoming project. Mable would fill her fellow scientist in when she arrived to take the details of the approved projects and requests for distribution, so he kept his message brief. A groan escaped as the tall man shifted in his chair. Despite its design keeping comfort in mind, the long hours sitting were not doing his back any good.

"Are you already thinking of turning in for the day?" Came the all too familiar voice of Malva. She strutted into the office space, her hair in a fashionable updo of knotted braids. She wore a perfectly fitted coat that hit at her ankles, bright red with an extremely dramatic hood that swept across her shoulder blades. She was dressed just as, if not more, precisely as Lysandre chose to present himself.  She was an image of striving perfection which reminded the masses of her presumed standing in the ranks of leadership.    

It wasn't like Malva's arrival went without notice to her boss, he just cared very little with how often people filed in and out of his office. With winter approaching there was growing concern as to how the society would handle it. Lysandre could only hope that the numbers given for storage were correct and accurate. The last thing there needed to be in his society was a food shortage.

 Scavenging was still possible, but it angered the redhead that he may have not moved his society past that need. The requests were ready, but he wasn't eager to send out teams to surrounding regions as of yet. Another year, he marked in his mental calendar, another year and teams could work to claim new territory. The weapon's widespread effects were still unclear so he wanted to be cautious before new movement was made.

Lysandre tore away from another document and waved his hand for Malva to sit. Without bothering with her question he instantly pushed a stack of papers her way and returned to his work.

"Good morning to you as well." She huffed, pushing her red lips into a fine line. She may have spoke with attitude, but she eventually grabbed the offered clipped bundle of papers and began to scan them through her tinted glasses.  Her jacket was left to flow over the back and arms of her chair, her black tights-clad legs crossed and she leaned back while she read. The overhead lights glimmered the satiny material of her roused dress and her heeled boots gently tapped against the floor.

"Oh, this one should be approved." She chirped.

The page in question was pulled out from the stack and placed in the pile. Lysandre gave it a sideways glance before sweeping it to the side, "No, not that one."

Malva gave him an amused look before swiping the request back into her fingers, "Why not now, dear? I think celebrating one year would be a good boost of morale." Her glasses glinted under the light fixture with a cock of her head, "I hear what your people say, you know. The society needs this." Her long nails tapped a beat on the page.

Lysandre's mouth tensed, "I won't approve such a celebration, it is highly inappropriate."

"Really, for who?" Malva knew full well who he was referring to, but didn't care to mention it. She scanned the page again, "Fireworks Lysandre, a late night celebration, and the city aglow with light. It would be such a shame not to give the people this. This is your legacy you know, are you saying that you don't want to celebrate your moment of triumph?"

The hint of challenge in her voice caused Lysandre to give Malva his full attention, giving her a stern look, "I don't have any regrets."

Malva flipped a loose strand of pink hair behind her ear and rolled her eyes, "I'm not challenging that. I know full well you have no regrets in your actions, you never have." She purposely avoided the fact that he admitted he'd made a mistake to her during the fiasco involving the dear Professor's disappearance.

She continued before a spat could ensue, alerted to Lysandre's flash of resentment at her words, "If there was any doubt in your followers however, I think this celebration would help curb that. You need to present yourself proudly and continue the image that you are firm in your resolve. The events with the Professor sure didn't help with that image I must say."

Lysandre's face was set in a deep scowl, "I don't want to talk about that." He commanded.

Malva wasn't deterred and continued as though his words went unsaid, "My point is, this will be good for everyone. Keeps the flock calm and happy as it were." She placed the page back on the pile of approved projects, "You really wouldn't want to crush the dreams of the children would you? They would love the chance to see the fireworks-"

There was a sudden clatter and shatter of glass on the floor. Lysandre's ashtray lay in a broken heap, ashes and discarded cigarettes littering the glossy, nearly reflective surface. His eyes narrowed in on the mess, his hands clenched in tight fists on his desk. A hush came over the pair in the room. Even Malva knew it best to keep her mouth shut for the moment.

The ex-Elite Four member struck an extremely sore nerve it seemed. Though for once, she hadn't intended to do so. She rose from her seat and wandered silently over to a built-in closet. With a broom and dustpan in hand, she returned to stand by Lysandre's side and offered him the cleaning tools. Wearing one of her favorite pairs of heeled boots, she wasn't about to risk getting ashes on them.

Lysandre inclined his head in a sort of implied thank you and proceeded to sweep the mess into the dustpan. Once the last thick shard of glass was disposed of he ended the awkward silence, "I'll approve the request." He muttered, "I expect you to oversee the project personally, I don't have the time to plan the celebration."

Malva nodded and wrapped her coat around her frame as though the room had become chilled, "All your followers will be appeased, I can promise you that much." The new awkwardness still held in the air between them, "Shall I..." She paused to form the words carefully, "Shall I make sure Augustine is extended an invitation?"

Lysandre slowly descended back into his chair after scuffing a smug of ashes that remained and turned his attention back to the papers that littered his work space. He made a good show of acting busy, too busy to give Malva a proper answer to her unwanted question. Her heel tapped the floor impatiently until the redhead bothered to acknowledge her again.

He ran a hand through the front of his hair, letting loose a few strands from the points, and sighed in defeat, "Why would I invite him to the anniversary that the weapon was fired?" He fiddled with the keystone ring he still occasionally wore, despite it being useless, "I'm sure there are better ways to torture him with such memories..."

His face flashed with a sadness he quickly took control of, though it didn't go unnoticed by the woman sitting across from him. Not that it mattered if he show his true feelings to her, she had no urge to exploit it. The world Lysandre created was almost a year old and Malva found that her old ways were no longer suited for it. Whereas before she found some pleasure in picking out someone's weaknesses, using them to get information that they wouldn't normally give out, now it lost its spark. There were no more jobs that required her "special" touch, no more need for blackmail to get her way. There was just an "ideal" society that had no more call for her dirty tactics and acts of betrayal.

Betrayal, wasn't that what she did to the league? She easily sold out every single one of her fellow league members all for the fact that she wanted to make sure she was on the winning team. Lysandre not only had vision, but the power to make his vision a reality and when he came calling she answered it without hesitation. It mattered not her old relationships, old responsibilities, or her life as she once knew it. Her identity belonged to Team Flare, to a vision that she chose to lend her skills in advancing.

Habits were hard to break. Much like Lysandre, someone she would never admit she tried to emulate, she refused to let anything weigh her down with regret. So what if she used tactics meant for Team Flare enemies against her own fellow members. In her mind it served them right for keeping her in the dark, but what of Lysandre? He too wished to keep information hidden from her.

She made a business out of prying out needed information for Lysandre. Lies were spread in his name to keep news of the movement subdued. As it continued, she turned into a rather good liar, all for her leader. She lied to people she once cared for with a smile swept across her lips, all for him.

Lysandre knew what he had created, and it was something he preached against. Even though she followed every order, even though she acted just as commanded, because of what she was and what she became he slowly shut her out.

_"Show that you can be helpful and I may share more with you..."_

Malva scanned through a few more pages of the offered bundle from before, making herself certainly seem useful, "Lysandre..." She caught his eye before she continued, "Perhaps if I spoke to him, I might be able to convince him to speak with you." A genuine smile curved on her scarlet lips, "I can be rather convincing."

Lysandre shook his head, but didn't express any direct objection to the idea, "I'm not asking you to do that, you have your job."

Malva's smile remained, "That I do, I should get to work. The date is fast approaching and there is so much I need to do..."

 

* * *

 

Two weeks the Professor spent with the doors to his lab firmly sealed. He refused all manner of company, but was never actually alone he found. He would ignore any and all knocks that he received, delete messages that collected on his reclaimed holocaster. Notes and letters that were slid under his door were shredded without even being glanced at, his curiosity not piqued in the slightest at Lysandre's recognizable scrawl.

He did appreciate, in a way, the effort made to ensure he had needed supplies. Boxes would be left at the doorstep full of needed food and creature comforts. Another knock would signal that someone was near to leave him more care packages, but he would wait until he was alerted that he could approach the door without having to greet the unwanted visitor. His own personal guardians (that was the term he tried to stick with) were quite able to assist him with his chosen seclusion.

Augustine refused visitors, but was never actually alone. Alone in the traditional sense, at least to the normal eye. If witnessed, he was a man who turned corners only to jump at unseen shadows, he spoke out loud to no one in particular, and moved around in the space like he had to avoid collision. He certainly would seem insane, but in truth he wasn't.

It was a subtle transition into what soon became his daily norm. At first he would only catch just the briefest vision at the edge of his sight. Perhaps a sound would pass his ears, the lowest audio that was only noticed because of the listener's silence. After the first few days the visions, the ghosts, became bolder. They would appear perfectly centered in the Professor's path, making it impossible to deny their existence.

Augustine wasn't trying actively to ignore them; it was a mixed feeling that they brought. The first vision that remained, a Zigzagoon, stared up at the Professor expectantly. The creature's scruffy head tilting back and forth as though it was trying to figure out the Professor as much as he was doing the same.

Out of habit, Augustine glanced around to make sure no one was watching before he sat on the floor of the lobby and reached out a quivering palm as though he was bracing himself from incoming pain. The Zigzagoon's eyes lit up and it pressed its forehead against the offered touch. No feeling was shared, no spark of nerves from the tickle of thick fur. Just cold air like a passing breeze from an open window, barely noticed and most likely supplied by the Professor's mind.

"I'm sorry, little one." The Professor cooed to the saddened pokémon, it had pulled back after it passed through his palm, "This is as close as we can get..."

He sometimes enjoyed seeing the familiar sights as they became more frequent, but it was a cautious enjoyment. Even though, after a week, he could walk through his lab and have it present itself almost like it would in the past, he knew it was a farce. He would be flocked by many lab pokémon, all clamoring for his attention as he made his useless rounds. Even with power, the lab equipment remained covered and ignored, the garden was still an overgrown mess, and the halls were still devoid of his long passed employees.     

The sounds would quiet in the evening, seeming to understand how precious sleep was to the man. On his waking however, the visions would start. The chirps and calls of many species would flood his ears. Sometimes they were quiet and patient, while other times they all shouted together in desperation for his gaze. It was in those times that the Professor would huddle on a blank space of floor, his arms wrapped snuggly around his head like a protective fort. He would refuse to meet the many faces around him, but their voices would continue to pierce his ears through his wall.  

He was never alone, even when he wanted to be. The ghosts kept him company, though they also burdened him with their existence. They served as constant reminders of the world that was lost to him, haunting him when all he wanted was peace.

On the day that two weeks had passed there was another knock on his door. Instead of ignoring it, instead of waiting for one of the many specters to tell him when it was clear, he finally chose to answer.

The doors moved with restraint, like the act was physically draining, and soon Augustine was face to face with Team Flare scientist, Xerosic. It was a chilled morning so the scientist was bundled in a thick wool jacket, it looked worn, aged, yet comfortable. His hands were thrust stiffly into his pockets and once he met the Professor's eyes he spoke hesitantly, yet almost casually like no time was spent apart, "Guten Morgen, Professor." Augustine raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Good morning, " He clarified, "May I come in?"

Augustine moved to allow his guest entry, and followed him into the lobby once the door was firmly sealed. He stood nearby awkwardly, leaning on his cane while his vision darted everywhere except at the scientist.

Xerosic on the other hand was observing the Professor's condition with interest, "Are you trying to grow a beard?" He asked in an attempt to lightly tease.

Augustine scratched at his patchy facial hair, "My razor is dull..." He turned his attention to the other man, ignoring to the best of his ability the many surrounding pokémon that crowded around the scientist unknowingly to him. A Combee buzzed around the redhead's ear which caused one of his hands to free from a pocket and scratch at the lobe. Or rather, that wasn't actually the reason. Most likely it was just a correlation not a causation but the Professor took interest in it nonetheless.

Xerosic shook his head, his body shivered for a moment presumably from the cold, "You can ask for a new razor if you want." He rolled his shoulders and moved closer to his host, the ghostly sea parted with each step, "This is a redundant question for me to ask, but, how are you?"

The Professor stared at his companion blankly, the answer was easy to pick from his features, "I've been better."

Augustine believed that the scientist meant well. To be fair, the man had done nothing but try to show him kindness, try to give him a sense of purpose. He still wanted to say that Xerosic was a friend and he certainly proved he cared. So slowly but surely, at Xerosic's request, he allowed more company to join him in his chosen home.

Mable rushed him when she first saw him, but managed to stop short until he approved her advances before she hugged him tightly, nearly throwing him off balance. She asked the same question posed by her partner, he gave her much of the same in response. Though added that her company brightened his day, let it not be said that Augustine didn't still strive for occasional charm.

 He allowed the rest of the scientists to visit as well. Aliana inspected the building to make sure nothing was in need of immediate maintenance. Her focus was on the building's ancient furnace to insure it would still heat the building in the coming winter. Once satisfied, she assisted Celosia out in the garden in installing a filter for the stagnate pond. Bryony installed new locks for the building and made sure Augustine had the keys in his possession. She also made sure that he had her contact in his holocaster for emergencies; she refused to slack in her duties as Peacekeeper.

During the course of an eventful afternoon, the scientists worked, along with chosen staff, to clean up the lab's garden. The grass was mowed, the pond now clear, and outside plants brought in to brighten the space. Mable sat near the Professor while he observed the progress. His vision never settled on any single movement. It flitted about to many sights, though most involved visions only he could see. The sound of a low whistle turned his attention back towards the blue-haired scientist. A Houndoom was curled up close to her, its nose whistling with every breath.

"You could grow produce in here." A contented voice hummed, Mable's statement caused Augustine to suddenly snap back to attention.

"Oui, I guess I could." His eyes shifted back to the pup. The Houndoom looked up at its trainer solemnly and slowly beat its tail against the short grass, in silence to the ears of the scientist. Such sights were still hard for the Professor to deal with, as he looked around he saw much of the same. Long dead partners continued to shadow their trainers like in life, the loyalty of a pokémon never could be questioned. Sometimes when he saw the specters of other's partners, it made him wonder why he never saw his own. Perhaps his own team only watched him from afar, or perhaps they resided even further from him than the other spirits. He tried not to let the thought remain.

 

* * *

 

 

 

After a small breakfast the Professor nestled himself out in the garden, his back pressed against the grand, central tree. Smooth bark felt cool against his back. The gurgling of the pond's filter created a relaxing white noise while the Professor thumbed through an old favorite book. _A Season in Hell & Illuminations _by Arthur Rimbaud. It was a book that he was introduced to him back in his University days; shoved on him with a swift knocking of his dormitory door in the dead of night.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Diantha?" Augustine said, followed immediately by a loud unhindered yawn and long stretching limbs, "What are you-"

The sleepy would-be Professor was promptly shoved back into his room, the door hastily shut to avoid onlookers. Not that there would be many wanderers with so many students cramming for their finals. Diantha's face looked lost in a dream as she clutched the book to her chest.

"What is-"

"Read this!" She failed to offer any explanation, just shoved the book into his hands and looked at him expectantly, "Open it anywhere, just read it."

Augustine wasn't going to question something that had his friend so excitable, being quite excitable himself if allowed, so he cut to a random page and began to read a passage aloud as instructed.

 _"...I wait for God with gluttony. I belong to an inferior race throughout eternity._  
_Life's the joke each of us keeps on playing._  
_I think I'm in hell, therefore I am._  
_I'm going to unveil all the mysteries: religious mysteries or natural, death, birth, future, past, cosmogony, nothingness. I'm a master of hallucinations._  
_Oh! the life of adventure that's found in children's books, will you give it to me to reward me for all the things I've suffered?..."_

His speech stalled as Augustine flicked his view back on Diantha, she was hanging on every word he spoke, "This is rather depressing don't you think?"

Diantha nodded, her face still aglow, "It is but, oh Augustine it just struck me so!" She smiled, it practically lit up the room, and took the book back into her long fingers, "This has been on my reading list for such a long time. Monsieur Rimbaud is such an amazing poet, his writing is the perfect piece of literature for the upcoming role I need to prepare for."

Diantha was often busy with filming ever since she was discovered so young to star in a prominent role. She really did have a talent channeling the perfect character when she was present on screen. It was a talent that Augustine quite admired.

"What type of film would such a book prepare you for?" He asked, a hand was brought to his eyes to rub away the sleepiness that still lingered.

The book's spine was traced carefully with a soft filed nail before Diantha gave her answer, "Why, a tragedy of course."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Professor read over the same words that he spoke aloud in the past and took note of his page number before stopping to check his watch. He was expecting company that morning, much like the many mornings before. True as a well-tuned machine, scientist Xerosic tapped out a beat on the clear glass door of the garden. Once allowed in, the two men retreated into the old employee lounge. Xerosic dropped his duffle bag onto the floor and placed a plastic-wrapped tray into the refrigerator, "Lunch for later." He explained even though he had done the same action before.

The duffle bag was rummaged through, Xerosic's tools, technological bits and scrap, and an unrecognizable project were spread out across the counter, "I brought work with me, sorry." He shrugged and gave the Professor a grin. It was a daily routine that Augustine welcomed into his life, something to create a sense of stability. Every day since he first allowed the scientist through his doors, the man would return and keep him company. It was nothing like the time spent in the underground lab working on holocaster repairs. The visits were far more casual, pointless even, but pleasant. 

A burrowing fear, that was pushed aside but ever present, made the Professor sometimes worry that Xerosic had other intentions, but if he did he made no show of it. He would just engage the Professor in mindless chatter while he typically worked on some form of project. He didn't seem driven to continue the interactions by some sort of order. It was hard to believe that the scientist wasn't sharing some amount of information with his boss, but for the most part he appeared to be acting independently.

Augustine grew fond of the interactions, because they were tangible and very real. At least the interactions existed in the same plane as he. As long as Xerosic graced him with his company, the Professor noticed that the spirits were quieter as though shy. Not completely gone just timid, they still made a presence at the side of his vision. They were never completely absent from him anymore, but it was more bearable when he had a distraction. The weight of so many pleading eyes didn't feel quite so crushing that way.

One of the objects that the scientist had spread across the counter sparked the Professor's curiosity, "Why did you bring your Geiger counter?"   

"Hmm?" Xerosic eyed the device and finally sighed in defeat, "I'll admit, I wanted to take more readings from you." He tapped his newly grown goatee, "If you'll allow it of course."

Augustine dropped down onto one of the dusty, overstuffed couches that lined the wall. They weren't fine like the furniture that was kept in the rest of the building. They were old, comfortable, tears and holes made up the worn armrests, and shed hair made up the cushions. Many years spent being the favored napping spot for human and pokémon alike had that effect of the condition. Not to mention also once serving as a preferred scratch post for many species as well. As long as the lab pokémon were kind to the finer furnishings, the Professor wasn't too upset.    

 He leaned back, the top of his head pressed against the blue wallpaper, and he blew a curl from his eyes, "What would it mean if I'm still irradiated?" He droned. His fingers reached back to pick at a lifted edge of paper that was bubbled from past water damage, "You said in your notes that I first presented myself like a corpse..." His chin tiled back towards his chest at the sound of Xerosic's approach, "Do you think I should be dead like the rest that share my radiation?"

"It's simply curious." Xerosic responded, claiming the open space to sit, "I hoped that you could assist me in discovering the answer..." There was guilt laced heavily with his words. He was sure that the man only wanted to forget about the nature of his existence, yet Xerosic felt the need to remind him. It wasn't pointless though, at least the scientist certainly told himself so.  

Augustine had nothing to add so Xerosic rambled, "The weapon should have leeched out your life force completely, yet it left you in a state that made it possible for me to awaken you." The Professor nodded, prompting his rant to continue, "Your radiation remained, which means the marker used to target may still active. Which would explain the observations that were noted immediately after the weapon first fi-" Xerosic paused when the Professor made an affirmative grunt.

"I wonder if AZ feared that when I was close to the weapon-"

The scientist sudden shot to his feet, jumping in front of the Professor, "Wait! When did you see AZ?" He spouted with sudden energy and shock.

Augustine tilted his head lazily to the side, seemingly lost in his own thoughts and unaffected by the scientist's astonishment, "I travelled with him to Geosenge when I disappeared." He eventually supplied. 

"He never told me that in any of our recent letters..." Xerosic felt oddly hurt that he was kept in the dark on the manner, though he never asked either. Even the news that the Professor was in Geosenge was new, but again he never pressed him on the subject, "You saw the weapon for yourself then?" His energy began to settle into a more calculated state of calm, switching to the mode he saved for formulating his hypotheses.  

Augustine nodded a bit stiffly and proceeded to recall the experience to his friend, including the strange draw he felt to the towering structure.

"I felt so warm... The type of warmth that starts in your chest and slowly blends out to your fingertips." Xerosic's face morphed with deep concern, though Augustine continued to share the story without notice, "I could hear everything so clearly, it was a slice of something that seemed unaffected by the truth. I almost felt like the weapon never fired at all..."

"AZ stopped you however?" The scientist spouted, his age lines deepened further as he observed the Professor's blissful appearance recalling the memory.

The Professor nodded again, looser than before, "He never explained, but truth be told it wasn't something I thought to ask at the time. I was rather preoccupied with other emotions once my visit was concluded." Augustine spun the tip of his cane against the floor, "I was just reminded and thought to mention that when you said I could still be 'marked' by it." The bliss that bloomed on his face had since wilted.

Xerosic pinched the bridge of his nose roughly and rubbed the skin around his weathered eyes as he returned to the space next to Augustine. The cushion couldn't resist him once he dropped his weight against the worn fabric. He didn't speak for a long moment, just allowed let his mind work around the new information given. AZ knew something, or rather feared something. It was a part of the equation that would need to be explored before the scientist could make further guesses into his theory of the Professor's condition and how that correlated to the weapon in Geosenge. He pulled various known facts from his mind and worked to piece them into the equation.

The weapon struck him and left him irradiated, though did not completely kill him. Xerosic was able to awaken him once he harvested life force from a generous donor. The Professor claimed he could see visions of dead pokémon, something that the scientist believed more than he questioned. If the visions were not caused by mental delusions, then why did they choose to present themselves to the Professor? How did the weapon fit into the bill? Was there some unseen and previously unexplored side effect that was left to be found? The Professor danced on the edge of life and death, but how? Why didn't the beam pull him the rest of the way when he got too close to the light? Too many questions, not nearly enough solid answers.

Augustine stretched and lifted his thin legs to rest on the coffee table in front of the couch. His loose trousers rode up on his ankles revealing the pair of reddish-orange socks he was sporting. Xerosic's gaze brightened and without explanation he ran a finger on the exposed fabric.

_"Devron..."_

Before the Professor could ask for his reasoning behind the odd behavior, the scientist's round belly rumbled and soon his loud laugh was bouncing throughout the room. He didn't even care about the strange look he was receiving from the man next to him, "I'm sorry!" He wiped some built up moisture from his eyes, "I'll explain, I promise. Did you wear those socks on November seventh of last year?"

The puzzled Professor dropped his feet from the table, "I'm not sure if it was these in particular, I told..." He avoided saying Lysandre's name and revised his sentence, "I was gifted extra pairs when I commented how comfortable they were. So I probably was, why?"

"Oh come now, Professor! You can figure it out, you snooped into my notes. What ensemble were they apart of originally?"

Augustine continued to look perplexed until his face suddenly flashed with an epiphany, "The uniforms, they protect against radiation. Wait though, you said I was still irradiated when I was found. How does this-"

Xerosic's laughter cut him off again, "You stayed grounded in the land of the living by just the edge of your feet! I can't believe I didn't figure that out sooner! It's so simple it's almost-"

"Stupid." Augustine cut in, "You don't expect me to believe I was spared because I chose to wear the correct socks?"

The scientist shook his head, "Oh no, it was the Director's full intention to spare you. Of course that didn't stop you from trying to peek outside."

"I wanted to tell him to stop." Augustine weakly murmured, dropping his chin into his free palm.

Xerosic continued, "I believe it was a combination of events that led to your survival, but what's to say that your choice of dress sock didn't help your odds?"

Augustine remained slumped on the worn cushions, he only passed the scientist a sideways look as his body tried to sink further into the upholstery. He could tell that Xerosic was absolutely chomping at the bit. It wasn't something that he held against the other intellect, if anything it just made him a bit jealous. He could hardly remember a time that he so enthusiastically gathered data and preformed experiments. Actually, he knew exactly when he last felt that bubbling excitement, but it was a time that was fading to obscurity, "Scan me, you won't be satisfied until you do..."

"This is why we get along so well, you know exactly what to say." Xerosic hopped to his feet and practically skipped as he retrieved the Geiger counter. The metal end hardly hovered over the Professor before the rapid clicking filled the room.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

The Professor and the Team Flare scientist walked a newly laid stone path that circled the edge of the glassed-in garden. The temperature was kept comfortably warm via a thermostat that was installed near the lab's back doorway. The almost frigid outside air couldn't permeate the manmade oasis. Chirps and calls tried to draw Augustine's attention as he passed. He simply held his hand out to try to calm the numerous cries. The action didn't go unnoticed by his guest, "How bad is it?"

Augustine turned to face the other man, his vision instantly filled with so many faces. Caterpie and Weedle clung to tree branches. Fletchling, Pidgey, and Pidove flapped their wings and hopped in the grass with little patience. Psyduck and Marill watched him with interest from the pond's bank. The buzzing of a group of Combee made his eyes narrow and his body flinch as they zipped over his head. Yips, barks, growls, and roars, each sound trumpeted in the space. All of them cried out for the Professor's acknowledgement, but he just couldn't satisfy them all.

Finally he answered, "It can be intolerable some days."

They were just desperate to reach out to him, he knew that, so he felt no ills against the many pokémon that presented themselves. He just wished they wouldn't bombard him like a rushing tidal wave and leave him so physically and emotionally drained.

Xerosic tried to leave the topic of the Professor's visions alone for the most part. He couldn't deny the fact that it seemed to be another piece of the ever-complicated puzzle that continued to grow. He had so many questions he still wanted to ask, but knew that such things had to be treaded carefully. Sometimes he was tempted to ask if his Malamar was nearby. He had to admit that since he was told, he sometimes would feel prickles across his neck. Even in the nighttime hours, with Mable curled against him and blankets tucked around their bodies, he would feel unnaturally cold.

"Is this all connected, Xerosic?" Augustine voiced while he dropped to the path and held his arms out around him. Unseen to the scientist, the Professor was rushed by many chattering pokémon. Each reaching, but failing to be touched, "I felt like I was in a dream before I came to. I was so sure I was watching my own body..."

"I recall you telling me this before, is that still true?" The scientist prompted.

"I don't know anymore," Augustine turned his head to meet his friend's face, "It is so hard sometimes to keep track of what's real." His fingers passed through a nearby Pidgey, "Is this all just another symptom of my current state? I don't know why I see these visions, ghosts I suppose, but if I'm terribly honest..." His arms pulled away from the crowd and he rose to his feet, he leaned forward on his cane and took another moment to organize his thoughts, "As much as they can hinder me, I'm also thankful for them." A small turn of his lips hinted at a smile, "When I was in Geosenge, standing so close to the base of that awful weapon, I actually felt peace."

Something clicked for the scientist, an awful connection he didn't care to explore even if it was needed. The many pieces that raddled around without strong correlations suddenly came together to form an unfavorable image.

"I'm still irradiated right?" Augustine's voice tightened as he spoke, "Couldn't I just approach it, the weapon? Barefoot even to be sure and touch it? Would that be so bad? What would even happen if I did?" His face suggested that the last question wasn't rhetorical. 

It was hard for Xerosic to hide his growing shock, "I don't know what would happen, I can only guess." His face jerked away from the other man.

"What do you guess then?" The Professor prodded, "You must have a hypothesis."

The scientist cleared his throat and slowly returned his gaze to the Professor's, "Death I wager."

Augustine nodded gravely and the pair soon continued to circle the path, all the while trailed by the lab's many specters. It was a grim parade that marched through the growth and stone, led by a reluctant Grand Marshall, "I thought so..." He breathed.

Xerosic couldn't keep his nagging thoughts to himself, not when he felt it was so important to speak up, "Professor, have you considered suicide?" His wording wasn't the best he realized, but it gave the thought a voice regardless.

The question caused the other man to stop in the path. His feet dragged against the laid stone and his neck twisted to catch his companion's face; it was filled will legitimate worry for the Professor, "I..." His mouth hung open, unable to form another word.

The scientist approached and appeared almost harsh in his observation of him. His green eyes seemed all the more bright and noticeable trimmed with the thinnest amount of red. There were no words, just strong arms pulling the smaller man close. Augustine tried to hold back, but once his face buried into Xerosic's shoulder he shuttered. His body shook while the scientist wordlessly stroked his back, soft whimpers were barely muffled by fabric.

Xerosic thought of what Mable might say, what words she would form to comfort the trembling man he held. It was still hard for him to know how to act in such situations, he would just perform the actions that proved helpful in the past. Gentle touches, soothing tone, a slight rocking motion, all proved helpful once before.

"I can't say I'm surprised..." He began. There was no way for him to be sure that his speech would help or hinder, "This world wasn't crafted with you in mind." A seemingly heartless statement, but it was said with honesty, "I don't believe that certain facts were considered when you were forced your ticket." He continued to rub the Professor's back as this thoughts formed, "Someday no one will even remember that creatures called pokémon even existed. They will fade away into myth. Unless someone is around to tell of them, to keep the memory alive."

Xerosic was certain that he was doing far more harm than good at that point, "You are the only man with the extensive knowledge, it would be a shame to lose you..." The scientist sighed, even if could be seen as pointless to some, any loss of life in the small world the Director left would be a waste, "I would like to help you if I'm able, what can I do for you?"

Augustine's whimpers relented and soon he pulled his face free from the scientist's shoulder, "I don't know what to do Xerosic, I can't even bring myself to face him." His eyes squeezed shut to push away another wave, "I'm barely living anymore..."

Xerosic patted the Professor's back attentively, "I think you are stronger than you let on."

He continued once the Professor shook his head with disagreement, "I can offer help in preparing you for what you want to say."

The Professor looked drained and pale with worry, but slowly inclined his head to signal some approval of the plan.  

 

* * *

 

Careful, tentative footfalls disrupted circling mist that lapped at the Professor's ankles with his movements. His steps moved on their own accord leading him closer and closer to the Prism Tower's base. Like a search light, the tower cast out its bright illumination causing the low fog to dissipate. Augustine was forced to shield his sensitive eyes from the beam then ducked inside the large opening before him to evade the blinding rays.    

His shoes echoed against the hard, polished floors. His wrist itched from the tight leather strap of his watch, the hands shuttered and spun in no particular way. Sometimes forward, sometimes back, sometimes frozen behind the glass. It felt so familiar.

 He could look down at the mirror-like marble and see his visage reflected back up at him, smeared with a look of confusion, soon verging on fear. Other steps, heavier steps than his own hesitant ones, approached but did not entice the Professor to search for their source. He could already feel his body flush with building heat, he knew who approached.

"Augustine..." That smooth voice he often longed for called, "You came back to me."

His concrete stare with his reflection soon eroded and broke apart. He finally met the contented and relieved face of Lysandre. He was modeled perfection, creamy ivory cast over carved bone and powerful, trim muscle. His hair burned like a well-fed fire, practically glowing and producing an aura that filled the space between them. Glittering eyes of sapphire coaxed Augustine closer; a Venomoth to a flame. That was exactly what he was in a way though, drawn ever closer to Lysandre's burning light. It didn't matter how much the inferno would lick his skin and mark it with sizzling blisters, he would always approach again.

Augustine's mouth worked to speak, but his lips only served to form words without paired sound.

"I knew you would understand mon amour. Come, " The tall redhead swept his arms out towards him, "Let's go home."

His hands reached, but failed to grasp Augustine's arm. They just passed through the air and hung limply before recovering. Lysandre's face morphed with confusion as he tried to pull the other man to him, again his efforts were wasted. Every touch refused to meet its target, they just passed through his body like he was made of smoke.

Smoke from his ever-burning fire.

Augustine looked just as baffled as his counterpart. He tried again to speak, he tried to push and force syllables to spill from his tongue, but they refused to sound.

Lysandre's movements quickened, his arms twisting around the Professor's waist to tug him close, lips seeking with desperation to graze flesh. It was all for naught. Augustine slipped right between his fingers.

The tower's base filled with the redhead's anguished cries. He continued to reach out in the slim chance that their touches would land. With every failure his cries grew in intensity, boiling to a rage that caused him to roar like a proper beast.

"WHY DO YOU TORMENT ME!" He boomed, "WHY WOULD YOU CHOOSE THIS!"

Augustine's voice cracked and two words passed through his trembling lips, "What choice?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

A shrill call woke the Professor from his troubled slumber. He was a tangled mass of blankets, fumbling in his dark room and searching for his bedside lamp. A hand came free from the cocoon of quilts and dim light soon filled the corner of the tiny bedroom.

The covers were folded back with surprising care and Augustine gently pressed his fingertips to massage his temples in hopes of calming an ache that threatened. He winced when another loud chirp disturbed him. Standing at the foot of his bed was a noisy and quite nosy Pidove. A returning specter that in any other circumstance the Professor may have been glad to see. It tilted its tiny head to the side and hopped a couple steps closer before repeating the action.

"Petit poulet, you are so loud." The Professor yawned before swinging his feet onto the floor, with a stretch he finally rose to his feet. His breath shuttered from a shiver tracing from his heel all the way up his spine. Getting the heat to rise to his private floor had always been problematic.

The Pidove appeared on his bedside table and chirped again to draw his sight, "Oui, oui, I see you." Augustine waved his hand before bringing it to his mouth to stifle another yawn. The tiny bird wasn't interested in silence however and hovered to the nearby windowsill only to chime out again. Clawed feet bobbed and danced against the painted wood, impatiently waiting for the Professor to come near.

"What do you need?" Augustine nearly pleaded through his tired speech, "What could your little heart desire of me?" He supported himself on the windowsill and tucked back the curtains to reveal the early morning light. The sky was still painted and swirled with soft pinks and gold signaling his early rising. The still tired Professor didn't look at his ghostly visitor with hatred, but he did feel a growing annoyance to its continued trills.

"Precious one, please stop." His finger met the end of the Pidove's beak, but not touching, "It is so early." Driving his point home, another yawn escaped.

The Pidove continued to disturb. Motioning towards the glass as though it was trying to tap against it, "You want me to open the window for you?" Augustine let out a long winded sigh, "It's so cold." Yellow eyes simply stared at him unblinkingly, "You don't care, do you?" A small chirp answered, "Oui..." He groaned.

It took more effort than he cared to admit, but soon the window slid open and the cold air crawled across the Professor's bare chest. The Pidove sat at the edge and simply stared out at the view, eventually causing Augustine to follow its sight.

Empty shops and buildings lined the avenue that traveled to the center of Lumiose City. His sight stopped by the central tower that thrust into the skyline. Another chirp, much more subdued, sounded from the pokémon's beak as it took flight.

Augustine watched the bobbing body and flittering wings grow in strength as the specter continued its path. It dove and arched in flight with building grace and soon it faded from his sight and left him staring at the Prism Tower glistening with the morning rays. It was a beautiful sight, one that he once loved seeing from his bedroom window. It no longer held that romantic notion for him. After a violent shiver shot through his body, he pushed the window shut.

 

* * *

 

In the large living space of the central tower, Lysandre sat on the edge of his bed. The blankets formed a wrinkled crescent around his hips. His hands tangled into his morning mess of hair, not caring that a few ginger strands let loose from the scalp, caused by his digging nails. His breathing was ragged, but calculated. It was his effort to settle his violent waking. As his breathing worked, his lungs ached and whined. The muscles pulled tight like support rigging before slowly, much too slowly, they loosened and almost relaxed.

The bedside lamp made his sweat-coated skin shimmer under the tiny bulb. His face slowly lifted showing a completely defeated gaze. Tired eyes, but that wasn't new, paired with features that belonged to someone aging. The face didn't belong to that of someone eternal or everlasting. He was a mortal being with mortal weaknesses and a troubled mind that tore at his slumbering machinations like a rake. Bare feet supported his tall frame and moved stiffly against smooth, waxed floor until he stopped at one of the grand windows that overlooked the city, his kingdom.

Most people wouldn't be out walking the streets yet, especially in the new chill that invaded the air. Yet, as he looked below he could just make out a flash of green hair, like a sturdy plant in the snow, that belonged to Peacekeeper Bryony. She was always one to be an early riser, perfectly respectable though sometimes concerning when paired with her late nights.

Celosia accompanied her partner and walked close with her, soft purple leaning on her lover's arm and enjoying her comfortable company. The cold meant nothing to the two scientists, being bundled up so tight and huddled so close. Was that a smile that lit up Bryony's face? Was Celosia whispering something sweet in her ear that caused it? They were too far away to be certain.

 As Lysandre observed the pair he felt an emotion bubble and fester inside him. It crept and slithered throughout his being until his teeth dug into the picked skin of his lip. His hands tightened into fists, nails reddening his palm. There was no mistaking what had taken hold of him.

What an ugly emotion for him to have, but it was one he couldn't deny no matter how much he tried to reason it away. His vision traveled up the avenue, following each perfectly laid brick that led directly to the doorstep of Augustine's Lab. His longing to travel, much like his sight did, to the closed off doors were unhindered by his tired nature. Time was supposed to make it easier, time was supposed to make the wounds heal and fade to soft peachy pink. It would appear that the wound that was caused, that he caused, was an incurable ulcer that only proved to widen and erode as time trudged on.

_This wasn't supposed to happen._

_This wasn't the plan._

Mornings were supposed to be spent with lazy kisses and passionate love, not cold sweats and empty, lonely, expansive rooms. Lysandre released a tight fist and flattened his palm against the glass before his forehead smudged against it. His reflection that displayed the unkempt appearance went ignored and the weary man continued to press against the thick pane of glass. The mark left on its surface would be scrubbed spotless later to erase any evidence of his morning weakness.

-

_"He is fine." Xerosic answered shortly to Lysandre's question. The scientist knew that it would have only been a matter of time before the Director pressed him for details of the Professor. Unfortunately for his boss he wasn't in the most sharing of moods._

_It wasn't a satisfactory answer and in the midst of his emotional state he made sure his top scientist was well aware, "Is he? He can't just remain in his lab forever, he needs to come out eventually!"_

_It wasn't often that Lysandre mentioned or asked about the Professor as far as Xerosic was aware, but that didn't change the growing irritation. Surely there were more important things for the Director to be focused on, not the condition of his boyfriend. (Was it ex now? Xerosic really didn't care that much to clarify.) The hypocrisy was not lost on the scientist, though in his mind he had time to waste in the Professor's lab. Lysandre had far too much responsibility riding on his shoulders and any distraction was intolerable._

_The man made his choice about how he wanted to craft his world and he made the choice to drag in a less-than-willing citizen. Of course Xerosic believed there was responsibility to be had over the Professor's emotions, but that couldn't take precedence over the wellbeing of the Director's many citizens that needed his leadership. Besides, the Professor didn't seem all that keen on having any help or comfort from that of Lysandre anyway. As far as jobs went, there were worse that the top scientist could have tasked himself with. Not that it was too much of a headache, he found he enjoyed the Professor's company when it came right down to it._

_"Actually," The scientist began, perhaps his voice verged on taunting, "He has left his lab before. I think he went to the hospital-"_

_"He was that close and he didn't come to the tower!" It was knee-jerk outburst, the Director not using his usual verbal skills to approach the topic._

_Xerosic rolled his eyes at the Director's response. In his opinion the tantrum was nothing more than childish, an annoyance that he wasn't going to tolerate, "He isn't required to see you..." He trailed off, almost adding that he wanted him to stop acting so entitled._

_Lysandre paused, "I know that..." His voice lowered, almost with a hint of shame, "I'm frustrated."_

_If he was looking for pity, he wasn't going to find it from his top scientist, "Everyone is frustrated for one reason or another, but we keep working." The scientist let out a drawn-out sigh, "He is fine, as fine as can be expected of him." That was as much as Xerosic felt to share, anymore would have felt like a betrayal. It would seem his chosen loyalty had shifted some time ago, not that he didn't believe in Team Flare's goals. That was one thing he was quite certain of. As far as sides were concerned on the issue at hand, Xerosic had to admit he could empathize with the Professor a bit more than his boss._

-

It stung every time his mind chose to remind him of everything he had done. All the signs were there, perfectly clear despite his insistence on denial. Augustine would never forgive him and Lysandre couldn't find it in himself to blame him if that proved true. Yet, if he was given the chance he would say sorry everyday for the rest of his life. If only he could get Augustine to believe that he would never harm him, not like he had. Those fearful eyes he saw, he never wanted to cause those eyes to appear ever again. There had to be a way that he could show Augustine that he wouldn't cage him, that he could be free.

The sky continued to brighten until the last hints of pink were replaced by dull clouds. Bryony and Celosia soon strolled out of the plaza, watched by their tired boss with lingering envy. Switching to the lab again, Lysandre's longing continued to grow until he felt like his stomach couldn't twist and tighten any further and his heart could just about beat out of his chest.

It was his punishment, his version of hell he was forced into. No, not forced. It was his version he willingly stepped into despite the warnings telling him not to. His kingdom was mapped out before him, the entire world ready to be crafted in his vision. Yet, as his sight continued to wander back to the laboratory in the South Boulevard, he could only think about one man and how he wished he could make everything right.

 

* * *

 

Xerosic knocked on the main doors of the lab only to find that they were already left unlocked for him. That made the morning a bit more efficient. So he let himself in and wandered through the empty, almost obsessively clean, lobby and ascended the staircase to travel to the employee lounge. He clutched a wrapped plastic bundle filled with his lunch, but other than that he carried nothing else on his person. No other bags and no other projects from his personal lab.

The scientist didn't hesitate at entering the lounge, though he was surprised to find Augustine huddled on the far couch. The Professor's eyes were glued to a laptop computer that he had resting on the coffee table in front of him. His gaze flicked to the scientist to acknowledge him, but then quickly returned to the screen.

Xerosic continued like he had previously intended to and placed his lunch into the confides of the fridge. It was funny, though probably more sad, that the interior was only stocked with perishables from his own stash. Even though he offered, the Professor didn't touch anything he brought for food. The scientist didn't take it personally, nor did he worry. The Professor was well stocked with supplies of his own.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a tiny bit curious of what had the Professor so engaged. So he made his way over to his side, Augustine shifted wordlessly to allow his guest to join and soon both men were watching an old recording play out on the monitor.  

_"Hello, my name is Professor Augustine Sycamore. I'm the Kalos region Pokémon Professor... *cough* Oh, I forgot how I wanted to do the next part." A more youthful, or perhaps happier was more appropriate, version of the Professor shook his head and laughed lightly. The camera trailed him as he walked through his office and shuffled through some loose notes on his desk._

_"Are you ready to try again Professor?" Came a young woman's voice._

_He nodded and flashed the camera a wide grin, only pausing to fuss with his wild hair until it lay to his liking, "I don't know why I'm acting so nervous, " The Professor shrugged and straightened his crisp lab coat, "I just want to show the children at the summer camp how easy these type of videos are." The Professor leaned against his desk for a moment and closed his eyes as though he was collecting his thoughts, "Alright, again from the top."_

_He approached the camera in a welcoming fashion, his arms out spread and his face aglow in the window light, "Hello, My name is Professor Augustine Syca-"_

_"Chespin ches!" Cried out a small grass starter that rushed into the camera's view. It made quick work of climbing the Professor's lab coat and scurrying across his shoulders. The needle-like claws left his pocket torn, a half eaten candy bar and an early holocaster model crashed out onto the floor. Augustine let out a surprised yelp when one of the Chespin's spines jabbed him as it crawled past. The small pokémon was now seen spreading the Professor's notes off the desk and adding to the mess in the office._

_"Oh goodness! Chespin no!" Came the same voice as before. The camera shook as the woman approached to gather up the troublemaker. Augustine collected the camera from his assistant and soon the screen showed the flustered face of Sophie holding the Chespin in question._

_The Professor's hand reached forward to scratch the pokémon behind an ear, it cooed at the touch and snuggled into Sophie's arms like a perfect angel._

_"What can we do." He sighed, "I guess this will have to wait, the starters are just too excitable today."_

_The image shook again with how the Professor tilted the camera on his grasp, "I don't want to drain the batteries, we'll try this again another time."_

_"I think that would be best, Professor."_

The video came to an end and Xerosic could see from a displayed playlist that the Professor had been spending his morning watching various old videos taken before the weapon fired. All moments that catalogued his research, his daily life, his friendships, everything that showed him for who he was before, the Kalos Region Pokémon Professor.   

Before Augustine could reach forward to start another saved recording, Xerosic gently placed his wide hand on his forearm to stop him, "How helpful are watching these for you?" He asked with a questioning look.

There was a grunt in response that failed to offer clear insight, but eventually the Professor answered, "I just don't want to forget anyone's voice." He straightened his back before pushing the laptop closed and with some unasked assistance from his guest he was on his feet.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" It was the same question that Xerosic asked every morning at some point, though regardless of the answer given he would still try to offer food.

The two men traveled to the counters, Augustine with his cane as usual, and soon they worked to brew some coffee. Xerosic pulled some grounds from the back of the fridge, "Just enough for a pot, I'll try to bring you more if I can."

Augustine shook his head while he dumped the remaining grounds into the filter, "I think I'll just switch to tea, most of the coffee tastes rather stale anyway."

Suddenly the scientist's face lit up, "Before I forget and it melts in my pocket..." Xerosic reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wrapped foil package of semi-sweet baking chocolate. He slid it across the counter to the Professor, "Eating that will make the coffee taste better."

Upon unwrapping the chocolate, Augustine could see that a couple blocks were already broken away and missing. He raised an eyebrow and gave his companion a look.

Xerosic shrugged and soon chuckled, "Now you have to eat some too or Mable and Aliana will kick my ass for taking it. If I tell them I shared it with you they might show me some mercy."

There was a small victory to be celebrated when a small grin formed on the Professor's face, "We can't have that now, can we?"

The chocolate, once melted on the tongue, really did make the coffee more enjoyable to sip at. Both men leaned against the counter's edge, Augustine hooked his cane at his elbow while he cupped his warm mug with both hands. He was enjoying the feeling of the steam lapping at his lips and nose, the scent of the drink quite relaxing.

Any conversation that took place was mainly orchestrated by Xerosic. The Professor didn't mind. He just listened while the scientist spoke of his dealings outside of his daily visits. There was the occasional well intended teasing remark from Augustine when Mable was spoken of nearly exclusively.

"So the wedding is going to be soon I take it." He hummed. Augustine sipped back at his beverage as though trying to appear innocent before adding, "I suppose you two are already married in a way."

The scientist rolled his eyes, "Marriage is simply a construct, Professor."

Augustine continued to muse, "I'm sure the wedding will be really beautiful. Will I be named your best man?" His smile grew as he continued to tease, "You should definitely name your first child after me."

After a moment of silence between the pair, both men suddenly laughed. Augustine's was soft and subdued, but it was genuine. Xerosic's was hardy and full, eventually trailing off when he accidently spilled part of his drink. He was quick to grab the kitchenette rag to clean up the spill on the floor.

The air felt light in the lab and Augustine had to admit that he was feeling better than he had in a long while. The surrounding visions were present, but welcome. They seemed to sense his carefully formed joy and were reacting in kind.

Xerosic didn't wish to ruin the moment. The version of the Professor that he was beginning to see in fragments more and more was someone that exuded life. He found it astonishing really that he could manage such a feat.

It was still only fragments however. The Professor still couldn't face the man who dropped him in the new society. The happiness, while treasured and sought, would slip away once the day concluded. Then Augustine would have to find the strength to put the scattered pieces back together again. Every morning, no matter how much time had passed, he had to do the work completely anew.

Lysandre's society was almost a year old and Augustine could hardly bear it, he still struggled with his place in the painfully small world.

Neither wanted it to be so, but it was time to get to the necessary task. The once lightness that surrounded their chat was now beginning to press into both men's shoulders. The weight could be felt by the scientist, but he could only guess how much worse it was for the Professor.

It was a game they prepared to play, a role play to give Augustine the needed experience in how he was going to talk to Lysandre. The roles were simple. The Professor played as himself, while Xerosic played Devil's advocate. It wasn't as though the scientist had to act too much however. Even if he was seen as a friend, he still stood by the decision to fire the weapon on the world. It was a fact that Augustine tried to forget, but had to face during the discussions.

Empty cups were abandoned and soon they were both seated back at the favored couch. Comparatively, Xerosic looked far more ready than his counterpart. The Professor's hands sat stiffly at his knees, bunching up the fabric of his pants. He knew the scientist meant well. Besides, if he couldn't handle a fake conversation there was no hope for the real thing. When his vision flicked up, Xerosic knew he could begin.

"You'll most likely have to initiate the conversation, Lysandre will avoid it if you don't speak up." He urged the Professor to start the interaction, to practice his speech.

There was embarrassment that always invaded before Augustine could find his voice. In a way he felt silly, like a child trying to play pretend, but once he spoke his first few words it always became easier, "I thought I knew you. I admired you for your drive and vision, but you betrayed me." The scripted scene had just began and yet the Professor already could feel his stress forming.

The scientist cleared his throat, he didn't speak with any mockery of Lysandre's voice. He just spoke in a level tone and responded in a single way that could only really serve as a small possibility of many ways the real Lysandre may have responded, "I meant no betrayal, if anything my loyalty should be seen from my sparing of you. You have always been a chosen one."

"How could you so easily make that choice! Who are you to judge every living, breathing body and choose who was chosen or not?"

"It wasn't easy, but it was a sacrifice that had to be made to ensure a stable future for the world." Augustine wasn't sure if Xerosic was playing a part with most of his words, actually he was fairly certain he wasn't anymore, "I will never regret making that choice."

What the scientist spoke wasn't just the possible words of Lysandre, the Team Flare leader, but the shared feeling of Team Flare as a whole. The words rang true for every member that marked themselves in the burning color. Augustine felt it before, the feeling of being so hopelessly alone. Each word he knew was felt by everybody that walked the streets of the city. Why would they regret something they gave up everything for? Only he could see the remnants of what they had done.  

The scene that played out was purposely made to be as difficult as possible. Xerosic wanted the Professor to expect the worse and be prepared with an arsenal of well-crafted responses. He also didn't want him to forget the truth. No matter what Lysandre might say, no matter what he could possibly do to lessen the impact, the truth was that he would most likely fire the weapon again if he had to do so. Xerosic knew that he would have probably pressed the button himself if it had been necessary. When the plan came to its head, even if the fear of death lingered, most of the scientists would have done the same. Each of them knew there was no going back once the choice was make.

Augustine tried to respond back, but his emotions were building. The specters could feel it too and soon a dull roar started to rise from the growing audience, "Did you ever think to ask me what I wanted before you made your decision for me?"

Normally Xerosic would have chosen to pull back from the interaction, just to give the Professor a moment of reprieve. If he continued to do so however, there wasn't going to be any progress made in the sample interactions. He had to push a bit more, just a bit to get the Professor prepared, "You couldn't possibly have been able to see the future and how I had it planned. You would have chosen to fade away like the rest that didn't share my vision and I refused to allow that! This is the best choice for the world and some day you will see that too! Sometimes death is needed for life to flourish. Prune the branches from a sick tree and it will grow greener and stronger in due time."

The rising roars increased in volume. The specters surrounded the two men with snarling fangs and reaching claws. They shouted out protests against the scientist's words, only one familiar ghost remained calm. It shared the same level expression as its master, though the Malamar didn't approach. It hung back from the turbulent sea of ghosts that wanted to tear the scientist apart where he sat.  

The noise proved to be too much for the Professor. His hands reached up to cover his ears, yet the volume continued to increase. More growls and snarls, snaps of clashing teeth and biting beaks, the angry mob continued to rage. They couldn't reach their target, only increasing their actions. Howls replaced growls and snarls, and each species lamented around the only man who could hear their growing pain-filled pleas.

 He yelled, only because he couldn't even hear his own voice over the crowd, "I didn't want this! I DON'T WANT THIS! YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED ME TOO!" Augustine's eyes stung and he stood crookedly to his feet. The cane he held stuck the floor with substantial force, causing his guest to jump, "I DON'T WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS!" He cried.

The ghostly pokémon closed in, all screaming out for the Professor in anguish. All Xerosic could do was watch helplessly as the Professor was haunted, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" He shouted, his arms swinging out to disrupt the unwanted visitors. His steps staggered and the scientist tried to reach him to assist, but Augustine gathered his footing and fled the space. He just needed to escape the deafening sounds, the terrible wails of the lab pokémon ghosts.

"Damn it." Xerosic pushed through gritted teeth, he knew he pushed too far. Calmly he walked after the Professor in hopes of salvaging the remainder of the day. He knew where he would find him too, Augustine had a fairly simple routine to read. The only place in the entirety of the building that could offer any form of peace was the garden.

When he descended the staircase and approached the backdoor that lead out to the space, he noticed that it was slightly ajar, proving his suspicion. So he followed through, expecting to find the Professor huddled under the central tree, his face pressed in his knees, and his breathing slowing trying to regulate.

What he didn't expect was for none of that to be the case.

Once through the door he was stunned to see another visitor in the garden. Knelt down in obvious conversation with the Professor was the giant AZ. He turned his head slightly to take note of the scientist and then continued to focus on the man in front of him.

AZ did less speaking and more listening, he would nod politely and say a few carefully chosen words just to switch back to taking in the Professor's shared speech.

Xerosic leaned himself against the outside wall, much more comfortable than leaning against the cold glass. He didn't wish to intrude on the surprising meeting taking place before him. He just watched with curiosity and tried to read a few words spoken on either man's lips. Lip-reading wasn't a skill he was well practiced with, so the task was abandoned. If anything he was actually thankful that the giant was present. Surely he would be better suited at speaking to the Professor than he. Though it appeared that AZ had other thoughts in mind and soon the scientist was motioned from his comfortable setting to join.

"It is a surprise to see you, AZ." Xerosic began, he eyed the Professor curiously. Surprisingly, he found that he appeared better than he imagined. A bit frazzled, but otherwise settled, "It is strange seeing you between messages."

AZ inclined his head, his grand silvery locks brushed against his knees, "Your last message prompted this meeting." He placed a gentle touch on the Professor's arm, dwarfing it like it belonged to an adolescent, "I'm deeply sorry for my role in your condition."

The scientist was perplexed, "What did I miss now? Anyone care to fill me in."

AZ continued, his focus remained on Augustine while he formed his words, "I worried that assisting your waking could result in grief, but I chose to progress regardless." He regarded the scientist with a soft glance, "We are both at fault for this and we must be prepared to make it right if asked."

Thoughts jumped around in Xerosic's skull until his face morphed with realization. He spoke, but not in a way that Augustine could understand. The giant listened to his rambling speech and rose to his towering height to say his piece, leaving Augustine to watch and try to piece together the foreign words.

It was strange witnessing an argument like the one that unfolded in the lush green of the garden. Flowers that were brought in to add color to the space offset the scene with strange contrast. Truth was, the "argument" appeared more one-sided, at least in tone. Xerosic would ramble, his arms gesturing with emotion and his face flushing with color. Whereas AZ would wait until there was an opening and respond with a soft-spoken response. It was almost amusing to the Professor, but as it continued it became much less so. It soon felt more like he was being treated like a child instead of a grown man. He was being so clearly talk about, but not to.

He cleared his throat, causing the conversation to come to an end, "If you are speaking of me then allow me to speak for myself." The inside of his cheek felt ragged from the stress-fueled chewing it had endured, "At least give me that respect."

AZ bowed his head and knelt back to the Professor's level, "You are correct, I apologize."

Xerosic scratched at his neck in irritation, "This is insane." He shot a finger at the giant, "You are trying to guilt me into this mess." His eyes pressed shut, his fingers pinching the base of his nose roughly. After a slow, whistling puff of air was forced through his nose, Xerosic addressed Augustine, "Professor, if you had a way out would you take it? If a clean way was possible, would you choose to leave this world in favor of that?"

Augustine didn't show any signs of leaning one way or the other, but took thoughtful consideration of that possible option.

AZ took the chance to speak his part, "You were not offered a choice before, but one is being offered now. Since we..." He motioned to himself and Xerosic, "Are partially responsible for your condition it is only right to assist you if you should make that choice."

The Professor remained silent, his stance stiff in the garden lawn. His mind was still pondering the gravity of the choices that were spread out before him. In any other circumstance, he believed the answer would have been so easy. A simple no. How he missed the simple days he had before, even with the occasional chaos the lab brought. Before he knew exactly what he was living each day for, he knew what type of future he wanted to craft for himself.

The future that he had once claimed as his ideal was now impossible. The only fragment that remained resided in the Prism Tower. Augustine felt a sudden sting in his lips, prompting him to pull his chewing teeth away. He had nervously torn at himself enough already. He didn't know what life offered him anymore, he was lost. He was stranded on a raft in a motionless sea, forced to stare at a clouded, dark sky. He was safe on the float and very much living, but if he rolled off into the cold waters it could end. The other option he had was to stay and hope the sky would someday open up and show him light.

A few hesitant ghosts approached apologetically, a Zigzagoon and a Marill, they curled up near his ankles and watched him with somber eyes. Where he would usually hear the chirps of the bird pokémon in the tree above him, they remained quiet and attentive. It was as if they all knew that his choice was something that had be considered quite carefully. It wasn't something that could be rash, he had to be sure more than anything in his life that he wished for such a thing. Did he want to die? He wasn't sure.

Xerosic was hesitant in his eventual approach, he could see the inner battle that the Professor was waging alone, "AZ told me that it would be relatively painless, far cleaner than more gruesome options. You would do exactly like you said before, walk up to the base of the weapon and touch it. It doesn't have the energy any longer to fire, but direct contact, in theory, will work." His teeth were making rough work of his own lip, perhaps certain nervous habits were rubbing off on him, "I'm not trying to convince you of that choice. If you care to know, I think you should stay. I think there is still a life you could make here. I know that you will never see this world as anything other than a horrible choice made by monstrous people, myself included, but I think you could find a way to have peace."

He was surprised when the Professor placed a hand on his elbow, though his gaze didn't quite reach above the scientist's chest, "Thank you for saying that." He took a few calming breaths, "I don't know what I'll choose."

"That is fine, this choice should be considered wisely." AZ motioned to Xerosic again, "It is our duty to respect his choice regardless of what it is."

Xerosic nodded weakly with agreement, "If you do choose to go to Geosenge after all, I'll take you. I suppose I'll have to."

Xerosic wanted so badly to say that he didn't want it to be the case, but he had said it himself:

The world wasn't crafted with the Professor in mind. Whatever choice he made, the scientist couldn't fault him for it. It was after all, his decision.


	14. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are at the end. I will say that there is some descriptions of injury in this chapter, but I don't wish to possibly spoil the ending by saying anything further. 
> 
> I shall talk with you all again at the end. See you then.

**(One Year after the weapon fired, November 7th.)**

The weather was proving to be forgiving for once. The chill was less biting than usual, which was good news for the woman whose heels clicked against the stone sidewalks. Her shoes were sleek and glossy red, not a scuff to ruin their nearly reflective surface. Thick tights adorned her legs, they were still needed despite the slightly warmer weather. Warm, perhaps, for a November morning.

Her bellowing skirt and coat showed that she walked with definite purpose, a woman on a clear mission marked out ahead in her with glass-covered vision. A smirk crossed her trade-marked red lips as she soon stood in front of her destination, the charming doors of Sycamore Labs.

First she pressed a glove-clad finger at the building's doorbell. With a quick irritated click of her tongue and a disgusted groan to join, she concluded that the doorbell was no longer in service, "Really now, I would have thought this building would have been better maintained." She practically hummed.

An amusing thought danced across her mind, _"You would think that Lysandre's precious one would have the best of the best."_

A knock served just as well to signal her presence, though her patience wasn't at its best. She was a busy woman who had an entire event to run and manage. However, her wheels were turning, a plot that she wanted to put into place before she proceeded any further needed to be addressed. It wasn't truly devious, actually it could be seen as an act of kindness on her part. All she needed was to have the dear Professor open the door and invite her inside.

Her foot tapped rapidly against the steps as she knocked yet again, "Augustine," She chirped, "Surely, you have time to see me?"

She was pleased when muffled footsteps were finally heard approaching the entrance. With hesitation the door opened just a crack, Augustine's face partly obscured from clear view. At first he looked troubled, his features filled with concern or deep though, but soon it switched as his charm activated, "Malva, what a pleasure." He opened the door for her to step inside and offered to take her coat even though he only had one free arm that wasn't holding anything. He layered it over the bare receptionist desk like a sheet and returned to greet his guest properly.

Malva darted around from point to point in the lobby, scrutinizing her surroundings, "Have you cleaned? It is practically sterile." She gave the Professor a flash of white teeth that resembled more than served as a true smile, "I suppose that is one way to keep yourself busy."

She took notice of Augustine's choice of attire. It was comfortable for sure, but quite hideous on the side of fashion. An ill-fitting knitted sweater with geometric pattern purposely added into the design (was it hand-knitted?) and slacks that would have been better if brought in instead of left to hang on his gawky legs. Aside from his clothing, his hair was passing and his stubble tame, but Malva wasn't there to act as judge for his looks.

"You're probably wondering why I am here?" She finally asked.

Augustine nodded, lightly cleared his throat, and plastered on his usual grin before speaking, "Ma cheri, I have to say I am quite curious. I haven't seen you in quite some time." The Professor relaxed against the desk, "We were at Le Wow last I recall and you were gracious with your wine."   

Malva joined the Professor's side and flipped her loose hair, she was quite enjoying the length, over her shoulder, "I couldn't help it, the more you drank the more your flattery came out." She laughed before her face turned a tad serious, "I have something I must ask of you Augustine."

The Professor took note of the fine letter paper she unfolded in front of him, their shoulders brushed together from the new closeness as she huddled in intimately to explain, "I have a checklist I've been trying to complete before tonight's event. As you can see I'm doing quite well..." She traced her tiny checkmarks than ran down the page, "...and I'm pleased with the work I've put forth into the planned celebration, however..." She tapped against the paper, a single item was left to be marked, "I need to know whether the special guest will make a presence."

The Professor's pleasant mask broke away in heavy, crashing chunks when he gathered what she was trying to suggest of him. None too subtly, Augustine folded the page shut, "I will not be."

Malva's face didn't do well to hide her disappointment, and honestly some amount of shock, at the Professor's response. The character that the Professor once played was crumbling away before her very eyes. All for the better, she figured. Masks dropped freely to the floor and their raw owners were now left behind.

The page was returned to the inside pocket of the coat that rested in front of her and she thought quite strongly about partaking in a smoke. She doubted the Professor would all too keen about her filling his lab with the smoky smell. Her finger traced the desk, the fingertip devoid of dust. He really had made the building spotless, if only her aging butler was as thorough.

"You must think we are so evil." Malva began, "That we are disgusting for what we've done." Her vision tilted to watch Augustine's reaction to her words, surprisingly he didn't offer much of one.

He just seemed bored, or perhaps just tired or weary. It wasn't like Malva was the first to bring up such things, "I would have never willingly joined Team Flare." He responded with automatic, almost mechanical-like tone, like an over practiced statement that he could spit out at will.

"That isn't surprising." The pair only shared occasional views as the conversation continued, settling instead to just lean their backs against the desk and stare at the front door that sat as stiffly as them in its frame without much emotion to offer, "I was surprised to find out that you had survived."

Her face showed the evidence of some distain, but it wasn't actually intended for the Professor, "It wasn't exactly common news among the ranks that you were to be spared."

Along with his mask, Augustine's barrier also weakened as he listened to the ex-elite's words, "It wasn't knowledge that Lysandre apparently wanted to share with anyone, not even the one who has suffered directly his choice." His jagged nails cut into the desk's surface, "I don't think I ever really knew him. I must be seen as an asset to him more than anything else, wouldn't you say? He certainly doesn't actually love me," He wilted under his own words, "Perhaps he never did."

Malva typically had no patience for such defeatist speech, but she found some pity to spare for the man. He was so out of his element, made to try to play a game that was rigged from the very start. How could such a man, born as just another commoner, one whose luck was most of his merit it seemed, compete in and withstand the world that Lysandre made for the elite and powerful?

She sighed dramatically, immediately catching the Professor's attention again, "Do you know what Lysandre did when you were in your coma?"

Augustine wasn't sure he wanted to indulge Malva with her chosen topic, but without another distraction he relented, "Kept me alive and continued to run his society I figure. We never spoke on it much."

Malva hummed and leaned in closer like she was about to whisper a secret, her hand cupped around his ear, "He became a wreck. He refused to leave his office in the underground and never slept in his room." Her hand came down to rest on Augustine's own, he didn't shrug away from the touch, "He nearly broke."

They separated and her flowing skirt followed her graceful movements across the swept floors, her voice still clear as she continued to share, "This whole world he made..." There was a quick, sharp laugh, along with a flick of her wrist, "He almost broke so completely that he couldn't run it. The people grew restless and would have continued to do so if he had not presented himself again to the masses."

She gave the Professor a wink, "The thought of losing you along with the building guilt of how you may react once you woke, it could have ended his leadership." She brought a single finger to her lips, "That, however, is just between you and me."      

Augustine's mouth parted, but his thoughts backed up like a sudden traffic jam of words and visions. He took a moment to pick a single floating thought from the mess in his mind, "Lysandre doesn't have any guilt..." He mumbled, he couldn't even meet Malva's naturally dominating sight.

No, not a single bit of guilt for what he had done. Why would he? Lysandre, the Team Flare Leader had everything he wanted. Well, other than the presence of the Professor. It was just as Xerosic said, he would fire the weapon again if he felt it was needed. It was more sad now to think on it, the desperation that came with such an act, as the time passed. The anguish remained, the horrible pit the bore into Augustine's very soul from those he missed, but some small amount of pain for Lysandre slowly made itself known. Lysandre really felt like he was a hero, that he saved the world from certain doom. All the work he made to better the world was spat back at him and he felt that there was no choice.

What choice was there?

Lysandre felt like there wasn't another one to be made. The only way was to essentially reset the world and as Augustine meditated on it more and more, he wondered if such an extreme measure would have indeed been needed. He wasn't as blind to the world's troubles as some may have suspected. The difference was that he refused to give up hope back then, there were once still joys that could overshadow the corruption. There were once still good, no, great people that worked to make lives better, richer, happier.

He always viewed Lysandre as one of those great people.

If he felt what he did was just, why would there be any guilt?

Malva's circling steps in the lobby came to a halt, "If he was to have too much guilt do you think the masses would still follow him?" She didn't give Augustine too much time to consider her words, "Lysandre must continue to be the absolute pinnacle of strength. Everyone in Team Flare, in varying degrees, is perfectly fine with death for the greater good." Her face was deeply serious and sharp, "There are some that wouldn't hesitate in removing him from power if he became weak and you, Professor, are his greatest weakness."

Malva's lips formed a thin red line after her last statement dropped into the air like a heavy brick smashing through glass. It was perhaps a harsh statement, fueled by passion and not prevented by tact. She knew that it lacked grace, but the faux pleasantry between them was long passed.

There was a noticeable shift in the Professor, the slightest indication that her words had stirred something inside him. His teeth worked at the worn skin of his mouth, nails still digging into the desk behind him.

She huffed at the sight and ran her painted nails through the front of her hair. Some strands lifted from static and crackled at her touch. Her mission wasn't going to be a success if she continued on the current path.

Her voice softened much like her expression, not as genuine as it could have been, "He wants nothing more than to see you again." Her heels lightly clicked across the floor, drawing her closer to the still form of the Professor, "He tries to hide it, tries to act like he is stronger than he lets on."

Augustine slowly met her disinterested expression, her mind appeared to have drifted elsewhere, "I told him I would try to convince you." Before the Professor could interject, she quickly added, "He never asked me to." With that she met his gaze and made it clear that she spoke the truth.

Augustine's mouth came closed, his words now meaningless to say.

"That is all I'm going to say on it." Malva's body brushed past him to retrieve her coat, "If you choose to join, come to the Prism Tower." Her coat slipped easily over her shoulders and without waiting for any form of answer she was out the door, not caring to have it shut gently at her parting.

Augustine watched her quick steps crack against the sidewalk until she was gone from his sight. His legs wobbled and shook until he slipped onto the floor. His knees were brought up to his chest, his eyes warmed, and nose tingled. The knit sweater draped like a blanket and while the silence would last he tried to enjoy it. Though it wasn't long before the spirits became curious and he was yet again forced to deal with his curse.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Centrico Plaza was a plethora of excited sounds. Children ran around, light on their heels, with homemade berry sweets that were being given out by cheerful vendors standing at brightly decorated tables. Others marveled at the fantastic lights that shone on the Prism Tower, colorful bars that illuminated each level and represented every surrounding plaza. If the evening was cold, it was easily ignored by the festivities. Other than sweets that would keep the children wired while waiting for the fireworks, there were also the savory smells of other dishes being prepared.

Mable blew steam off her own small dish of soup that was doing excellent work at chasing away any chill she may have felt. It was mainly vegetable broth, but she found she didn't mind as she drank it down. Her hands were bare so she could enjoy the heat coming off her meal. She was wise to be wearing a knit hat that her hair was tucked up into, her ears nicely snug against the fabric. Thick pants and a soft, trim parka adorned her body. She wasn't planning on letting the November air keep her from spending the rare night out.

She scanned the fluctuating crowds, waiting for familiar faces to catch her eye. Truthfully, everyone was fairly familiar. Every face was that of one whose information she had seen at least once on file, but she waited for those of her chosen circle to arrive. Xerosic was spotted first, sweets in hand and a face that resembled the walking dead. Quite a contrast compared to the surrounding masses of smiling faces and energetic youth.

"Are you alright?" Mable asked immediately without any hesitation, her hands thrust out and tugged Xerosic into a tight embrace, nearly squashing his treats that he kept wrapped near his chest.

He mumbled incoherently and nodded quickly before he was finally able to speak more clearly over the crowd, "I didn't get the memo that we were to pull out the old uniforms." He motioned around and sure enough most of the crowd appeared to be sporting at least pieces of the Team Flare garb, "I suppose it is a form of community pride."

Mable didn't allow herself to get too distracted, though she also noticed the surplus of the team color in the surrounding people, "What is wrong?" She pressed again, hoping that for once Xerosic wouldn't prove to be difficult.

"Are the rest going to join us? The whole science division, the best of the best. Seems only right doesn't it,  Liebste?" His eyes weren't covered by any form of eyewear, not that any of the scientists had any reason much to wear their goggles, so his shifting sight was all the more noticeable especially in the well lit plaza.

"Xerosic!" Mable scolded, though her tone was quick to soften to something more of concern, "I'm going to be frank, you look awful."

The top scientist managed a slight, possibly forced, grin, "You are too kind." He continued when Mable's dark blue eyes continued to stare him down and try to pick any answers and clues from his mind herself, "I'm exhausted and the night isn't nearly over." He stretched and let out an exaggerated yawn for good measure, "I had last second tweaks to make to ensure that the fireworks weren't going to all go up at once, the timing wasn't right in the computer." He scratched at his cheek, "I left some teens in charge after I fixed the timing." He chuckled almost darkly, "I'm sure they can handle it, they seemed eager to prove themselves."

Her gaze became less harsh and Mable brushed a couple fingers across his cold skin, "I'm just glad that you joined." She stepped closer, Xerosic pressed the side of his face into her soft palm, "You almost made it seem like you were going to be too busy."

He fumbled to maintain his hold on his haul when his arm was looped with Mable's. She looked so content and serene in the colorful light that glowed off the tower. The colors swirled and blended like soft pastels on her chilled face. She sniffled, her nose trying to drip, but was successful in being held back.

Xerosic handed over one of the wrapped packages that he snagged and the pair found a free bench to sit together. Mable huddled close and the top scientist was more than happy to share his warmth. Treats were consumed, a tissue was shared, and perhaps some sickly sweet touches were as well. If there was any hesitation in Xerosic before to share in the nightly enjoyment, he soon relaxed by his fellow scientist's side and allowed himself to be content.

Mable quietly pointed out into a section of the Plaza. Celosia was seen bundled quite heavily as though she was readying for a snow storm, just a bit of her purple hair was barely seen from the front of her hood. Bryony was leading her through the crowds, she was dressed lighter, her bright locks free to catch the air, and her arm was devoid of her peacekeeper armband. It would seem she was finally choosing to take the night off properly, though no one suspected that she wasn't going to remain on alert. The pair huddled near a vendor that was offering paper cups that gave off wisps of steam, some hot, fragrant blends of tea. It was a real favorite for the evening as many were seen sipping away at their own cups.

Steam swirled around their smiling faces and soon the pair caught the waiting eyes of their fellow scientists. There was a nod of understanding and some polite waves, but it was clear that Bryony wanted to spend the rare moment she was allowing herself with her partner. Celosia tugged on her arm and they cut back into the crowd, following the many smells that swirled about from the hot food that was being prepared.

The whole city was a vibrant spectacle of life and bright burning pride. That pride was clear to see with each fiery uniform on passing members. It was a celebration of triumph and success. People laughed and cheered as they stood in groups and caught up with close friends and families. Children ran free of parents and helped themselves to far too many servings of sweets that they wouldn't have been able to enjoy in such an amount any other time during the year.

Everything ran slower in time, as the night progressed there was no sudden rush that people felt to return to their homes. In honor of the celebration the curfew was dropped to allow for the extended festivities. With the energy that was plain to see in the streets, it would seem that Malva had been correct to say that the citizens needed such a reprieve.

Such life was spreading through the people and yet it almost seemed so wrong for it be so. The most youthful had no way to understand completely the true impact of the world around them. All they saw was what their families presented to them. They were brought into a new existence that was far better than the world before. Life was saved all thanks to the work of their grand leader and king. His name could be heard praised as drinks were opened and shared. It seemed that it was easy to celebrate the birth of their new society as long as the reality of all the dead were ignored or reasoned away in the minds of those who knew better.

Xerosic had been resting his eyes, letting his mind settle while he enjoyed the sharing of bodily heat, when her heard Mable's excited call. He turned just in time to see Aliana bounding forth to join them at the bench.

"Have you eaten?" She asked presumably to Mable, but when she nodded and Aliana continued to stare at Xerosic questionably he realized an answer was expected of him as well.

He gave a quick nod, not explaining that he had chosen to fill up on sugar instead of something that would have been considered a proper meal. It was a celebration after all, he wasn't going to be the only one to indulge.

The trio of scientists were a normal sight when they weren't busy with jobs and other chosen engagements. There was many a time that Xerosic returned to Mable's apartment (he was practically moved in completely, but he still didn't feel comfortable claiming the space as theirs) and he would find the two ladies resting lazily against each other on the plush loveseat.

He would normally leave them be, but occasionally Mable would lift her sleepy head, complete with frazzled hair to match, and motion for him to join. So he would and soon it became fairly normal for them to be squashed together, perhaps an old film was put on the television for viewing, Mable sandwiched happily in the middle, Aliana and Xerosic pressed against each side.

It was comforting to know that the three had such support for each other. Xerosic often wondered, Aliana and Mable agreed when he brought it up one night, that perhaps the small state of the world made the survivors want to pull together more than before. Regardless of the reason, they were now inseparable and the top scientist didn't want it to ever change admittedly. It was an example of something good that came out of the aftermath of the weapon firing only a year prior. Perhaps it was a selfish thought to have. Not everyone had the ability to see much optimism from the ashes of what some would see as a foul action.

"Kanto is so dangerous though..."

Xerosic shook his head and brought his attention to the conversation that was ongoing between the two female scientists. It was embarrassing how easily his mind would go off on its own excursions and be oblivious to everything else during that time, perhaps it was a sign of his age. Not a comforting prospect for one whose mind was his greatest asset.

Aliana tilted her head thoughtfully at Mable's comment, "It is. Drones that have returned have shown that the radiation levels in that region are extremely harmful." Her leg bounced against the bench, "We should have taken the nuclear plants into account in that area. I don't think Lysandre will allow any groups to travel there for another year or two."

Mable frowned, "Yet, even with that knowledge Celosia wants to lead that team." She blew out a puff of air that instantly clouded like smoke, "When she is ready to make a formal request I'll shuffle it to the top of the pile, I assume she'll be wanting Bryony to join her as well?"

"Of course." Aliana pressed her palm against her leg to quiet the bouncing, she was perhaps a bit caffeinated, "I was at a job with her recently and she showed me something interesting to say the least, I believe it may have prompted her desire to seek this leadership opportunity."

Mable and Xerosic shuffled a bit in their seats and huddled closer, that made the other scientist smirk briefly before she explained, "She has been taking walks and cataloging any changes that can been observed in the flora. She apparently found quite the sight, the corpse of a large Venusaur."

Mable clasped her hands over her mouth, Xerosic on the other hand shrugged, "It was an impossibility for us to find and bury everybody, we were going to miss plenty." His hand squeezed Mable's hand affectionately nonetheless, he wasn't heartless to her sensitivity. It was easy to just claim that the dead humans were unlucky or perhaps actually deserving of their fate, but most pokémon were entirely free of such things.  

Aliana continued, though as she did she rubbed Mable's leg with care, "I thought it was horrible as well, but Celosia reminded me of something fascinating. Do you know what happens to a Venusaur when it dies?"

The two scientists shook their heads and Xerosic resisted the urge to ask if he could call an expert on the subject. Would have been a bit tasteless ultimately to ask him such a question.

"They release as many as hundreds of seeds into the air. It is some sort of last ditch effort to give the species a chance to continue on." There was a brief pause that was filled with nothing but the surrounding sounds of celebration before she clarified as to why she was mentioning the fact in the first place, "Celosia found a few of the seeds and took them to her and Bryony's flat."

Mable's face lit up, "Could they possibly be made to grow?" She asked with excitement, "Is there any chance that we could slowly bring some species of pokémon back?"

Xerosic was already shaking his head before Aliana gave the conclusion, "They aren't alive anymore, not viable it seems. Sorry Mables, I didn't mean to upset you."

The blue-haired scientist sighed and leaned back against the wood of the bench, "It's alright, honestly it is for the best isn't it? If we brought some pokémon back, eventually the world would just return to how it was before." Her gaze wandered to the colorful tower that watched over all the citizens below, she was sure she could see a tiny speck of red hair from the tower's highest platform, "Then what would all the sacrifice we made been worth?" Her face lowered and shied away from the light, "No, even if there was a way to do it we have a responsibility to make sure that we never do." 

After that the trio grew quiet and watched the surrounding people as they mingled, ate, and sipped at hot beverages. Children waited eagerly for the promise of the fireworks that were set to grace the sky above. Their tiny hearts were far too full of excitement to let any tiredness to weigh them down.

Even when one small child bumped into a passing man, not quite watching as they played a game of tag with friends, the energy failed to disperse after they were patted on the head and send off on their way to continue in the games.

There was a hesitant, careful smile on the man whose path was continuing to cut through the Plaza's center. It was quick to fade when his tired face tilted up towards the top of the Prism Tower. He continued to the base without notice and not a soul even caught any view of him when he opened one of the large doors and slipped inside.

Why would anyone notice someone who wasn't expected to be seen?

There was some hesitation as the man's nail-bitten fingers pressed the elevator's call button. Even in a sweater and coat he felt strangely cold, no perhaps it was some nervousness that caused the Professor to shiver.

Augustine dug a hand into the fabric covering his chest, his breathing was slow, deep, a forced leveled calm. Once the elevator doors opened all he could do was stare much like an Espurr and coax his legs to work at his command. His mouth dried and his heart pounded on the edge of anxiety. He hadn't even seen Lysandre's face yet, but he was already feeling a whisper of dread.

Before the doors closed in front of him from his slow response, there was a burst of drive that propelled him to stand inside the box-like space. He wanted to curse his shaking and twisting stomach. He wanted to sink onto the floor and hide, hope that he wouldn't be discovered. He gave his command to go to the very top of the tower, he couldn't hide any longer.

He had to finally face him.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 

The air was almost numbing with how cold it presented at the top of the viewing platform. Lysandre leaned against the safety rail and watched the citizens with, honestly, little interest. His face was reddening from his choice of wine that he had already been consuming at quite a rate. His nose bloomed with the flaming color and it had already spread and settled at his high cheeks in a deep shade. It was all the more noticeable with the way his skin paled from the frigid air that nipped and bit at any amount of available flesh.

He swung around and leaned his back, almost languished, against the strong, frozen metal. Malva was at his company, sitting at the wall side bench, her chin resting on her hand. At his company, but fine to keep her mind focused on other things. She swirled her own glass in her free palm, resting the long stem between her fingers. It was clear that she wasn't in the same state that her boss was currently in. Malva wanted nothing more to hear some praise for her hard work in making the evening as much of a success as it was, the evidence of such was plain to see with just a glace down below them, but Lysandre wasn't in a mood to offer anything of the sort.

She approached, the last bit of the bottle in hand and proceeded to pour it into the Director's empty cup. Perhaps with more he would finally loosen up, certainly worked on most. The bottle was left to sit at the ground and she peered over the railing while her drink passed gracefully past her lips.

"Look how happy your people are." She remarked, there was a frown that immediately followed at how Lysandre was so obviously disinterested in her words, "You should at least be happy about that." She was forcing herself to not become shrill, no need to allow the Director's mood to hinder her's.

She got a grunt in response, which was better than the silence that she was getting before, "They are proud you know." Her hand brushed against the thick fabric of Lysandre's jacket, it was only a halfhearted attempt at getting his attention, "A year in and the people still follow your vision, certainly that is something worth celebrating."

"Indeed." His single word was chased by a long drink from his glass, his face twisted in a grimace. It was a sipping wine, not something that should be drank with such gusto. He cared very little and stomached it regardless, it wasn't long before his glass was yet again empty.

Malva sighed loudly and purposely, it went ignored, and checked the time on a decorative watch that glimmered around her wrist.

"He isn't coming." Lysandre pushed out, there was a hint of irritation, or rather some hurt in his voice. It seemed that he was one to become more tightly coiled as he drank rather than relaxed.

She lurched a bit with some surprise at his sudden blurt, but she quickly recovered, "I was just checking the time." Her mouth twitched before she grounded out her next words, "Is my company not good enough for you, dear?"

It was a tease, Malva wasn't truly hurt that Lysandre's mind was far more focused on another. Or at least she wasn't terribly sensitive of his attitude. She scanned the crowds below, only turning to face the tall redhead when he cleared his throat.

"Your company is fine." He spoke with some hint of apology. The glass was brought to his lips again, only to quickly drop when he remembered that it was empty. The thought crossed his mind to retreat to his chambers, perhaps open yet another bottle of something much sweeter, easier to drink down. He knew it would sour his stomach if he did, but it strangely had some appeal.

Wasn't Augustine always more of the drinker between them? That was how it had always seemed in the past. Of course in the past Lyandre was still working to make a name for himself, he had little time to indulge in such things and drunkenness was distasteful in his mind.

So why did he never find it distasteful in Augustine? It wasn't desirable of course, but perhaps he enjoyed the opportunities it gave him to be a hero of sorts to the Professor. Lysandre turned his head away from his guest when he felt a bubble rise in his throat. He was hating how disgusting he felt at that moment.

Augustine wasn't one to drink daily, to be fair he didn't always drink excessively even if it was offered. Just the occasional moment of far too much celebration, always a smile on his face even if he felt sick later and had to be escorted to his bed.

Lysandre rubbed at his eyes, they were itchy not becoming wet of course, and placed his glass to be abandoned at his feet. He steadied himself when his head rushed and spun from returning to his full height. Perhaps that was why he never found it distasteful actually when it was the Professor. Augustine never drank from sadness. He just enjoyed it as an occasional part of celebration. Whereas Lysandre could feel his own distaste growing at his poor choice of overindulgence, he just wanted the night to end and the bottle was making it easier for the time to pass him by.

Malva watched the Director at the side of her vision. It would be a lie if she claimed she wasn't watching him with some disgust. The cold was starting to get the best of her so she wrapped her long coat tighter around her body. Regret was beginning to strike her, she could have spent her time elsewhere instead of witnessing a grown man drink away self-made sorrows.

 She really couldn't think of any words to say in the situation. Part of her had some pity, the other had growing annoyance that Lysandre couldn't move on. He was a stronger person than what he was currently being, if for nothing than just his leadership skills, she wished that he had never grown any attachment to the Pokémon Professor. At the very least his life would have been more ideal, but she supposed there was no way to really know.

She chanced another look at her watch, it was only about twenty minutes before midnight. Twenty minutes before the finale of all the hard work she offered for the celebration. Even if Lysandre couldn't find any enjoyment out of it, she knew deep down he must have appreciated it. If he didn't, he was at least intelligent enough to see where such an event was needed. The people were pacified for the time being. They could all feel validated in the actions that each member chose to follow. They could look at the comradely and reason that everything that was done to put the plan into place the year prior was for the good of all. The doubts were cast away and with each potential future year, the doubts would become easier to reason out of the flock.

Lysandre turned his attention back out towards the crowds below and Malva gathered the empty glass that he left forgotten. It was on her return to the bench that she heard the chime of the elevator doors. It went apparently unnoticed by the Director as he didn't offer any sign of a response. She placed the glass in hand onto the floor near the bench and, after checking to make sure Lysandre remained just as oblivious, walked to greet the new guest.

On the door's opening, Malva stepped practically into the entrance before she caught a glimpse of the Professor. He was backed straight against the far wall, his cane out in front of him as though it would serve to keep people from invading his space. His sight instantly froze on Lysandre's hunched back. It settled, unwavering, for a few steady rises of his chest before he finally chose to switch to acknowledge Malva. It was only a pallid expression he offered, he swallowed thickly and loosened the zipper of his coat like he needed more air.

It was slow and stiff, his movements once he chose to leave the tiny space that he would have once cursed. He didn't return the smile that had spread across the ex-elite's face. She brushed a hand across his back before they switched places. It was meant as an act of reassurance, but Augustine shoulder blades only bristled at the contact. She held her arm against the door, her mouth opened with the intent that she would announce his presence.

With a single pleading look from Augustine, she pressed her mouth shut. The temptation remained to signal her departure, but chose instead to honor his one wish, giving a small dip of her head to show that. Her work was done and now Malva could leave with the satisfaction that she was successful after all with her mission. She was finally free. There were others that would be thankful of her company for the rest of the event, she had no wish to continue to stand and freeze while her boss continued to silently curse the night.

Before she allowed the doors to shut completely she watched with, perhaps undesired if noticed, amusement at how the Professor stood like a frozen pillar. The breeze that gently caught his curls was the only thing to prove that he had indeed not turned to ice. It was all so laughable to her, she really couldn't help herself even though she was well aware that she was being catty. There was the Professor waiting to see Lysandre, yet Lysandre was so filled with his own self-loathing that he had yet to notice. Malva wasn't so nosy that she would wait to see the look on the Director's face, even though she could just picture it in her mind. It was enough to satisfy her so she would at least let them have their moment alone. Let Arceus, if such a creature still and ever existed, bear witness to the reunion.

The distinctive click of the doors coming together only served to cause Augustine's dread grow even heavier than before. He was trapped, though temporary, on the tower's top. If he wanted to back out, he would have to wait until the elevator was no longer in use before he could rush for an escape. Was that what he wanted at that moment, to forgo the effort he made to see him again? It was by his own will that he even stood with his feet rooted in place with the chilled air meeting his skin despite the layers he wore. He forced his hands to loosen on his cane's handle, the strain was sending painful prickles up his arm. He couldn't do it any longer, the stress that had collected in him, in both of them, had to end.

Lysandre's back straightened from his slouching position, but Augustine could see that his steps bobbed from foot to foot as he did so. With quick observation and an empty wine bottle serving as evidence, it wasn't hard to piece the simplistic puzzle together that the tall man before him wasn't currently at his best. It was a strange circumstance for the Professor to find himself in, a reversal of sorts that seemed appropriate for their meeting. Did that fact put him at ease, not entirely, but there was something in that knowledge that made the Professor's muscles stop tugging so tight.

Augustine wanted to speak, but his words just wouldn't release from his tongue. His thoughts offered many possibilities for what to say, but nothing was volunteering to go first. Besides, he had no idea how to start. How do you start anything after so much time, after such an emotionally charged parting? While the moment lasted there was something quite inviting in just watching Lysandre without his awareness.

Augustine watched as though some great secret would be discovered in the way his shoulders rose with his breathing, the way that his breath formed clouds that lifted past his hair. What was he thinking about? Did he suffer their parting as much as the Professor suffered? The questions soon replaced every starting statement he tried to vocalize for their conversation. Augustine knew there was only one way to know anything he questioned, he would have to gain a voice and ask.

There was a moment when the two men moved nearly simultaneously. Augustine's frozen feet moved forward and his mouth opened to try to push out any Kalosian, Lysandre turned to say his own thoughts to another he thought still remained.

"Malva, you haven't said-"

He staggered back, his hands gripped the railing behind him hard, his eyes set wide. The last of his sentence fell away as his sight filled with that of Augustine. How could he have prepared himself for such a sudden and unexpected surprise. His chest quickened its pace and his skin flashed with waves of heat, not that the Professor could tell. All he could see was his shocked expression and the way his legs threatened to strike the hard concrete that made up the viewing platform's floor.

It was like Augustine had just caught the man with his pants around his ankles, the way his face continued to be twisted in deep shock. The flushing of his skin only added to the whole hypothetical scene that the Professor had formed in his mind. If it wasn't for how serious everything fell between them, such an image would have brought a chuckle to his lips.

"Lysandre." His name came out with more strength than he thought it would. He was glad and thankful for the strength that was slowly forming in himself. Steps were still forced, but the space soon shrank between them. There was still a gap, a clear sign of the wedge that still existed. It wasn't so simple, Augustine couldn't just reach for him and draw their bodies close. The situation wasn't that of a long awaited meeting that could be rushed with passionate touches and sweltering kisses. Even though the later could almost be tempting in the night air, truth being he didn't want to be swept up. Even though they both now stood fairly close watching over the glow of the city, Lysandre forced his body to lean away as though he was afraid that even an accidental brushing of their jackets would cause Augustine to flee. That was the last thing Lysandre wished for, he could already feel the longing twisting and gripping at his heart.

"I'm glad you are here." It was said so low that the Professor hardly heard the light voicing from the tall redhead. It wasn't the usual speech that he was accustomed to hearing in Lysandre. He was usually so sure with his words, but it would appear their current standing was gifting him with doubts in how to address his guest.

Augustine felt his own confidence grow as he watched the mingling crowds below. Neither one was struggling with the right words to say alone, they were both united in that. He shivered against his will, the air was nipping at his ears and making his hands grow numb. The icy railing was doing nothing to aid him in that. Then he heard the rustle of fabric and turned with some curiosity to see Lysandre removing his coat, underneath he wore a button-up in the horrid color that the Professor was now conditioned to hate.  

There was a pause, eyes searched for any sign that his action was allowed before he wrapped the jacket gingerly yet snuggly around Augustine's shoulders, "I didn't think I would ever see you again." He began, his words were filled with the telltale sound of someone who was on the brink, his emotions were already becoming quite raw, "I don't deserve your company tonight of all nights."

That was something the two of them could agree on, but Augustine wasn't in such a mood that he would say it. There really was no need, with every moment that their eyes met, Lysandre knew. Augustine brought up a hand and dug his chilled, boney fingers through the thick fur trim. It tickled against his face and even if he wanted to resist, it was far too comforting and tempting not to rest his face against its plush texture.

It was something familiar, the slight smokiness, the smell of Lysandre's usual cologne. It was something that could and was able to make him think of the past, it was just memories, but memories that he wouldn't allow anything to tarnish. That version of Lysandre before he knew the truth, he couldn't say before Team Flare unfortunately. That version that sometimes visited his memories and dreams and made him feel so incredible that he awoke with such guilt and shame, deep shame that such a man still struck him so strongly.

"I was convinced that I should consider seeing you, though I took my time in deciding." There was a flash of something across his face, almost melancholy in nature, but it faded before Lysandre's fuzzy mind could latch on to it, "I suppose I decided that I just needed to come see you."

There wasn't an immediate response, Lysandre just rubbed his arms that were quickly becoming cold in the frigid air on top of the tower, "You didn't need to do anything." he took his time in forming his next words, "You didn't have to force yourself for me. I'm sure these festivities are just upsetting to you."

Augustine's hand gripped into the fur tighter, "I didn't do this for you." The words weren't spat with any malice, but the impact was still present. He didn't stop to see how his words affected Lysandre, he just continued to watch the people surrounding the tower below. So many were showing their Team Flare pride, "I am just one man," He calmly drawled, "I'm quite outnumbered regarding my views." He expected Lysandre to cut in, but was surprised to simply see him patiently waiting for his next words. He was so starved of the Professor's voice, not wanting to risk any chance that he might silence again, "It has been a year and yet to me it feels it has been dragged out to be so much longer."

"I'm sorry, Augustine." Lysandre finally responded with just the faintest voice, it was enough to cause a light bristle in the Professor's demeanor.

 "No you're not, don't lie to me." He was facing the redhead now, causing Lysandre to have to focus on him fully as well, not that there was much of an escape from the Professor's stormy eyes. Everything beyond their place atop the tower was pushed into white noise, the whole world shrunk into just the bubble that the two men resided, "I don't want to hear any more lies tonight..."

"I don't wish to lie to you!" Lysandre exclaimed through his cloudy mind. His next action lacked any grace in his inebriated state and he crashed down at Augustine's feet with a crack of his knees. If the clumsy act caused him pain, it wasn't being shown. His grip hung weakly on the Professor's loose pants as he continued to rattle off a series of words, "Everything I've done to you! Keeping you here against your will, forcing you to take medication you didn't need." His face dropped away, but the Professor reached forth and cupped his scruffy chin, a gentle nudge to urge him to look into his eyes, "I made you fear me," His voice was obviously shaking now, "I will never forgive myself for hurting you, for showing you that disgusting side of me. You never deserved it."

"You're right." Augustine's hand dropped away, and his teeth worked at his lip for a moment before he shot back a look at the man knelt in front of him, "Don't grovel at my feet, I don't want to see you like this."

Lysandre stood with some needed support from the railing to steady his weakened legs, whether the weakness was from his drinking or from the conversation at hand it was unclear. He sent out frantic puffs of air from his lips while he rubbed his hands together, they were quickly chilling as the night continued to progress. The Professor's cane was left to rest against the rail as he pulled Lysandre's hands into his own. The redhead stiffened like he feared any movement would cause such contact to suddenly cease, "It just makes me sick," Augustine explained, his thumb rubbed the cold skin tenderly, almost lovingly in nature, "I really thought I knew you."

A loud groan disturbed the small moment between them, the taller man was regretting every drink he consumed so far that night. This was the conversation that he once feared, but now he wanted it more than anything. If for nothing, the conversation meant that he had Augustine close if just for the night. He wanted so badly to curse his stupefied, clotted mind and poor judgment that was making it all so terribly difficult, as though it wasn't already a difficult thing to be had, "You know me, you always knew me, " Extra time to consider may have been needed, but Lysandre was bound and determined to make his words clear, "I just hid certain things from you out of fear."

Augustine's thumb stopped working, he only tilted his head up to listen, Lysandre continued, "I shouldn't have kept secrets from you, but what would you have said if I told you of this plan?"

"To leave me behind," Lysandre's eyes widened for a brief moment, "That is, if I would have been unable to convince you to stop." His grip tightened around Lysandre's hands, the next question was something he never felt he had the strength to ask, "Would you have stopped your plan if I had asked?"

Nothing but the sounds of the light wind brushing past their ears and catching loose hair plus the people mingling below could he heard for the longest time while Lysandre processed the question posed. His citizens laughed, cheered, and continued to praise the triumph of their leader high above. Lysandre forgot about the feeling of his arms being nipped by the cold. The only thing he wanted to focus on, the thing he wished to cherish for as long as was allowed, was the warmth of his hands being blanketed by those of Augustine's. His fantastic grey gaze was wanting and waiting for an answer that Lysandre just didn't want to be forced to give, but he had to tell the truth.

"I wouldn't have. I couldn't let the world continue the way it was going, I had to act."

Augustine slowly nodded, he wasn't surprised by the answer he received. he had long been prepared to hear such a thing as the truth. That didn't change the fact that it hurt him to a certain degree, it would never be something that he could completely stomach. Lysandre knew it too.

"It was selfish of me. I feared that you would wish to die with the rest, but I wanted you to see things through my eyes. I wanted you to stay in the world with me. I wanted to spare them too, the children-"

Lysandre allowed himself to be pulled down, his lips pressed and sealed by the tip of Augustine's fingers, "Please don't. I believe you, I really do. I just can't forgive you for that. I never will."

The redhead tried to mouth the words "I'm sorry", but with the sound of a whistle the sky was soon marked by sparkling explosions of color. Each one was followed by a roar below, the sound of youth and carefree adults. Others chose instead to be caught up in the lips of lovers, or soon to be lovers. Missing the show in favor of a romantic moment that would hopefully stay with them for another year or more.

The two men on the tower had no more words to spare between them while the show continued. Augustine's fingers still remained against Lysandre's warm lips and in a way that was the only act that mimicked romance that was shared. Not stopped with proper thought, the Professor's arm were rubbed with feather-like touches in the meek hope of something more substantial, but nothing else was pushed.

Once the last firework flashed across the sky, showering the area above the Prism Tower's spire with a cascade of gold-flicked rain, Augustine finally dropped his hand away and collected his cane that still leaned on the railing.

"Are you planning to leave?" Lysandre asked with barely hid sorrow, "I can walk you to the lab if you wish."

Augustine let out a long breath, obviously pondering his options in front of him, "I think," He stopped, which only made Lysandre want to press for the remaining words, "I will stay for the night." Hesitant and careful joy settled on the redhead's features, his shoulders relaxed and face softened from the news.

The Professor watched at how Lysandre began to rub his arms again to generate heat, he was finally reminded that he was indeed getting cold, "Let's go inside," Augustine offered, "I would like to sit down."

The short ride down was filled with returned silence, the two men stood at practically opposite ends of the elevator. It wasn't much better when they entered the chambers. Augustine was surprised to see that very little had changed since the time he lived there. If anything the only difference he could see was that the space looked far less lived in than before.

"I'm sorry." Lysandre mumbled, there was some embarrassment in his tone that actually managed to catch Augustine off guard, "I can't say I was expecting your company."

 It was so clear that he was forcing himself to avoid falling into old habits with the Professor. Augustine would move and Lysandre's arms would twitch as though he wished to reach out and offer some support, help his steps like he once had. The Professor didn't need the support anyway, "I'll make some tea?"

He really did phrase it like a question and after some thought Augustine had to agree that tea sounded lovely, even with the added jacket it felt so frigid outside. With Lysandre keeping himself busy in the kitchen, Augustine dumped the jackets over a chair by a desk. It was a desk that he had once sat at quite frequently during his days living in the tower. Sometimes to read, though the bed was far nicer for such things, mostly to write notes and sketch away on some loose paper he found stuffed away in the drawers. Some of the very pages were filed away neatly in a crisp looking folder, he flipped them over and imagined the care that Lysandre probably had looking through each one.

It was so clear looking back on his drawings and notes how much he longed to wake up and see that everything had been a dream. Most drawings were those of some form of pokémon, the kind that would have been seen around the city on walks. Mostly birds like Pidove and Fletchling. From memory on one he tried to draw the members of his team, Charizard, Blastoise, Venusaur, and Garchomp. He was sure he did a horrible job, it was nearly impossible to capture the subtle quirks of their faces and completely so to capture their personalities. He flipped to another page to shed his mind of that sadness that tried to invade.

Later pages had drawings of higher quality, having models available did a wonder on his skill. The page in front of him wasn't a finished sketch, but he could still remember the day he worked on it. It was one of the moments that he was alone in the tower, he had returned from the underground lab and was just waiting for Lysandre to return. It was the deep purr he heard first, a rumble that nearly vibrated his chest. Standing near him with a flicking tail and bright gaze was a large and mighty Pyroar. Lysandre's own of course, it was hard not to notice the Pyroar's well groomed mane and glossy coat that had once belonged to the powerful beast.

It stood curiously while he worked on the piece, sometimes voicing a deep yowl when a line didn't serve to show off his strong features to his standard. Before he could finish some last finishing details, the elevator chimed to signal the arrival of another and the Pyroar disappeared from his view like he had never been present in the first place.

Augustine shuffled the pages away, returning them to their corner spot on the desk like before, when he heard Lysandre approach, "Would you like to sit in the kitchen with me?" He asked cautiously, it was like such an offer would insight a massive amount of negativity.

There was a nod before he rose from the seat. Lysandre's arm twitched again with the desire to offer his assistance, he managed to resist. Once in the kitchen, the pair returned to their usual places at the table. It was almost like nothing had actually changed, the scene was comparable to many before that the pair once shared. Augustine sipped at his tea with care, Lysandre focusing fully on his.

The warmth of tea was needed, it was settling nicely in Augustine's stomach. He craved the subtle warmth that it bloomed inside him, a rare comfort. Perhaps just for a moment he could allow that comfort to be shared. His hand slowly motioned across the table's surface and offered its touch. Their hand's met, it wasn't an immediate thing. Lysandre's hand moved to complete the path, but stalled just before reaching his target. It took Augustine's continued insistence for their hands to finally join together and they drank the rest of their tea just like that, hand in hand. Even when cups were empty and in need of rinsing, they continued to sit together for a moment longer. A yawn tried to escape Lysandre's mouth, his alcohol-sated mind was lazy and comfortable in the warmth of his home, but he fought it off. He didn't wish to sleep just yet, he wanted to make the moment last for as long as possible.

He brought his other hand forth and just gently massaged Augustine's hand silently, there was something that struck him, a bubble of fear that this moment was simply temporary. Soon everything would return to how it was before and he would be left wishing for Augustine's company. He didn't deserve even a fraction of what he was getting now in his opinion, but it still didn't mean that such a thing wouldn't trouble him greatly.

"I have a guest bed I can set up for you." Why was meeting the Professor's eyes was so damn difficult, Lysandre lamented, "Or you can take the bed, whichever you prefer."

"You don't have to set up something extra for me." Augustine offered a soft smile, though for some reason it refused to reach his eyes, "I can share with you." He layered another hand on top of the sandwich that Lysandre had created, "Truth is, I don't want to sleep alone tonight. I guess I have been missing your company."

Thankfully, Lysandre kept his space stocked. There were spare supplies that Augustine could take and use to clean up for the night. Once they chose to get themselves ready to retire, it really was like they had never spent any time apart. They moved around each other easily while they focused on different portions of their routine. Augustine borrowed a nightshirt that hung on his body loosely, it was an off-white color to his relief. He left his clothes folded near his usual side of the bed, both him and Lysandre naturally migrated to their preferred sides, and his cane left to lean against the nightstand.

A yawn finally escaped Lysandre, but he still fought off the tiredness that was creeping over his features, trying to weigh down his eyelids and send him off into his dreams. Even when his bare back hit the plush mattress, he refused to let sleep take hold just yet. He turned and leaned on his side so he could face the other man. Perhaps his fingers pinched at some exposed skin on his thigh to make certain that he wasn't already dreaming.

"I don't deserve this." He whispered again, "You are being too kind to me. I have been far too awful for any such treatment." The last words cracked and when Augustine scooted closer, his arms wrapping around Lysandre's soft skin, there was another crackle in the man's tone. His face pressed into Augustine's neck, there were words that could not be easily understood as he wept them all against the smaller man's shoulder.

His brushed out hair was twisted delicately in Augustine's fingers while he allowed Lysandre to cling to him. All he did was watch the ceiling come into clearer view as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Only a small glow radiated from the large exposed windows, the city was too full of continued excitement to settle just yet.

Augustine pressed his face gently at the top of Lysandre's crown, it was torture in a way how much his heart wanted to melt in that moment. He just wanted to do whatever he could to tell that man, the man he still loved so terribly, that everything was fine now in that moment. He wanted to say with full certainly that things would be alright between them. The Professor had asked for no more lies for the night and even though it was technically morning, he didn't wish to lie either. So he just stayed silent and held the slightly less so, but still quite drunk man against his chest.

Eventually, he moved to allow Lysandre to shift in his grasp, their faces were now so close. Even in the low light he could see the sparkles of moisture clinging to Lysandre's pale eyelashes. With a joined act of desperate passion, they cupped each other's faces and joined in a late kiss. It wasn't marked by flashing lights and cheering voices, but it was still so wanted and desired between them.

Augustine was the first to pull apart, just a bit, before he nuzzled close and ran his hand through Lysandre's soft, well groomed chest hair much like he would any time before. He chose to remain hidden while he felt Lysandre's continued touches work up his back and neck. Eventually the touches became lazy and slow until they stopped all together, Augustine's waist was the only part that remained held in his grasp. It wasn't a possessive hold, just careful and cradling like the Professor was the most precious to him.

Augustine was sure in that moment he certainly was, but it didn't change much unfortunately. While his face was hidden against Lysandre's neck he sniffed back some of his own tears that threatened to rise and clung to him closer before trying to sleep himself.

"I love you." He softly spoke before pressing a kiss against his neck, "I'll always love you."

 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Lysandre's eyes flickered to life, groggily his hand searched around the bed only to come back without feeling the body of another. He was alone in his bed like what had become common. With some grumbles he pushed himself to wake and search the room with sleep blurred eyes, finding no sign of Augustine.

His feet hit the floor and on his nightstand he found a glass of water waiting with a couple of aspirin. How kind he thought, it lifted his heart at the gesture. The water chased the pills and the drink was already helping his hangover. What a horrible choice to drink as much as he did, but other than that, the night was far nicer than he expected.

He stretched and let his back and neck pop at the joints as he walked around his living space. There proved to be no sign of anything having been moved in the kitchen, the kettle still had the same leftover water as before. It was in the bathroom that he found the folded nightshirt that Augustine had borrowed from him for slumber, left at the vanity by the sink. Even the towels were dry where they hung, it appeared that Augustine was in a rush to leave that morning.

Lysandre wandered back to his bedside and pulled the covers back into place, not quite smoothing them completely down. All the signs that the bed was shared was erased right as the bed was made, even with the little care for the act. The glass was soon collected to be deposited in the kitchen sink, but as he lifted it from the table's surface, a folded note fell off from the bottom of it.

Lysandre's name was neatly written out in pen, only bleeding slightly from the moisture off the glass. The redhead glanced around nervously, his guts already forming tight knots, before be let his weight fall back on the mattress. The glass was left to sit back at its previous resting place and he held the note tightly between his fingers. It took a moment to work up the nerve, but eventually his beating heart grew to be too much. With much haste the single page was unfolded and Lysandre began to read:

 

_Lysandre, my dearest._

_It is difficult to write this while I gaze on you sleeping so close to me. Truthfully, I wasn't even going to come see you originally. I was just going to go through my plan and leave you a note to be found in my lab, but I just couldn't stay away I guess._

_That was selfish of me, I shouldn't have given you such hope last night. I have known for a long while now that there was no way that I could live in a world like this. Not even with you. So it is with a heavy heart that I must tell you that you will never see me again. I will not return after this trip because I don't plan to live._

_I will die like I should have in the first place. I don't belong here, I never did. I hope that you will find happiness in your life. I wish I had something more profound to say, but I fear I will wake you. I can already feel myself choking back my emotions. Please don't come looking for me, you cannot stop this. I'm so sorry this is the last chapter of our lives together, I was so hoping for a different future._

_Perhaps in another life? There is much mystery in the world still isn't there. Maybe we can hope to meet again. This life just wasn't meant to be for us. I miss everyone so much, Lysandre. I'm so sorry to cause you this pain._

_Je t'amie mon cher,_

_Augustine_

 

The ink that scrawled out his name was dotted with two perfectly dropped tears, making the last part of his name nearly impossible to read if it wasn't already known who the letter was from. Lysandre stared at the page in a state of shock, his hands quivered against the page and his own eyes threatened to flood over.

He read the letter over and over as if the words would reform and say something new. He couldn't accept it as truth. There was no way that Augustine would go through with such an act. The man that was a beacon of life himself, a bright shining force that brightened everyone around him. The thought of that light choosing to snuff itself out was too much.

Lysandre was a whirl as he moved to collect something to wear. The very first thing he could grab was thrown on his body, his hair was tossed behind his ears, and his jacket and shoes were fetched just as he slammed the button for his elevator.

On the trip to the ground level, he punched in Augustine's number. It rang, which was a good sign, but eventually went to voicemail. He almost left one, but stopped and chose instead to dial again and then again and again.

The elevator filled with the anguished shout of Lysandre's cursing, now out on the main level he moved at a grueling pace. He wracked his mind as to where Augustine could have gone. Based on his letter he wasn't at his lab, there was somewhere else he had planned to go. Planned, planned for how long? Lysandre's mind wanted to fray and spark. The very idea that Augustine came to him last night with the idea to die after. He clasped his hand over his mouth and held back a strangled cry. He had to think, there was no way to know how much time he had, if any.

_"I will die like I should have in the first place."_

Lysandre held his holocaster out again and brought up Augustine's contact information. What he did wasn't something he ever thought he would ever abuse, but with the life of his partner on the line he had no choice in his mind.

A map projected from the lens and once the Director confirmed his selection for Augustine, the map pinged until it picked up the signal of the other device. It was on the move. He zoomed out the map to try to guess where the signal was heading, it was right as he did that his heart sank deep into the pit of his stomach.

"He is going to Geosenge..."

There was no time for him to lose, Lysandre had his target in mind. he rushed from the tower with frenzied movements while he forced his device to ring another. After four rings, far too many in Lysandre's opinion, Mable's sleepy voice answered, "Oui?"

That was all she could even speak before Lysandre's yell drowned her out and proceeded to jar her completely awake, "Car now!"

She stuttered for a moment, "Yes sir. What is wron-"

Lysandre ended the call, cutting his assistant off. His heart continued to beat at a wild pace, his mind supplying him with every gruesome image it could possibly supply of his love's chosen fate. He almost wanted to break out and run on foot, but it was a thought most foolish, he would never make it in time if he was somehow able to push his burning lungs and aching legs to carry him the entirety of the trek. Augustine was going to die at the rate everything was spiraling around him, he could only hope that he wasn't going to act on his plan too fast.

Before his panic rose any higher, an impossibility seeing that he was sure he had never been more fearful in his life, a sleek black vehicle pulled into the plaza. The driver stepped out and immediately tried to hold the passenger side door open for the Director, but was instead rushed by their boss. The keys demanded, though practically pulled from their fingers before they could even think to respond. He answered no questions as he sat himself behind the wheel of the car, making the engine roar to life. There was only slight pausing to push the seat as far back as it would go so he could drive more easily. The driver was left in a state of confusion, left to walk themselves back to their post and report to Mable the strange turn of events.

The roads seemed clear and devoid of any morning ice near the city, for that Lysandre would have been thankful if such a concern bothered to enter his mind. He just continued to push the peddle lower and lower, causing the car to lurch ahead. He only dared to push the vehicle as fast as he thought he could manage, but as his mind assaulted him with more graphic images of what he might find if he was not fast enough, the need for his own safety was quickly swept aside.

Not thinking, not focusing, the shimmering sheet across the asphalt didn't register any danger to the man until he struck it. He was so painfully close to his destination when it happened, the car came flying over a hill, far too fast, and wheeled across the patch that went unnoticed to the driver. He instantly lost his control, all traction failed as the wheels screeched trying to grip. They moved against any attempt Lysandre made to right their movements.

He could only watch it all unfold in horrific slow motion, the reality finally blared across his vision when his hands were thrown free of the steering wheel. The car spun and spun until it struck the edge of the road and began to roll violently down the embankment, slamming its passenger against every hard edge inside. Nothing could hope to stop its momentum. It continued to strike across the earth, windows shattering and leaving a trail of glass in its wake. When the car finally came to rest on its own accord, its occupant slumped motionless in his seat.

There was no way to really tell how long he had been sitting in his daze. Fighting through the pounding ache that drummed in his skull, he eventually forced his eyes to open. He hissed through his teeth, spattering blood down his chin. Eventually he found the strength to pull his bruised, possibly broken, body out from the broken window. He could feel the ragged edge of glass cut him with each agonizingly slow movement through the gap. His arms and legs burned as he moved, his mouth tasting of copper.

He would not let his body stop, not when he was close. Each step he took caused his face to scrunch up and forced each step to be paired with a limp, but he continued to push on.

_"I have to get him to stop this, he can't do this."_ The thoughts were pleading and begging him to continue his quest. _"Please just wait a little longer, I need to stop you."_

He ignored every nerve that was lit up with agony, they could all be addressed later. Such injuries were temporary if enough time was given to heal. If he was too late, if Augustine was successful however, that wound would be nothing compared to his current injuries.

Such a wound would refuse to heal.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The drive started out as silent when Xerosic pulled the vehicle around, the Professor was already standing outside the tower waiting for his arrival. The scientist didn't even need to leave his seat before the Professor stepped into the passenger side himself. There was an impulsive thought that struck the scientist, that the Professor was perhaps packed too lightly for the trip, or rather not packed at all, but then he was remembered the reality of course. Augustine wasn't planning on returning once they arrived at their destination, his visit was more of the permanent kind. Supplies from their world were of no need where he was planning to go.

Knowing that he was leading this man to the end was about as lovely of a feeling as was imagined. Xerosic's own pressing mind was temporarily relieved that his passenger felt the desire to prompt him to speak. Nothing regarding what was about to occur, just the usual chatter. It might have been for old times' sake, just the random topics that they would have once mindlessly chattered about during their shared moments in the lab.

Augustine continued to prompt Xerosic to talk about how his night fared while he instead watched the scenery pass by like a blur of grey. He didn't shake away from his glued expression set to the view outside the window, every bare tree and dormant plant offered a bit of distraction. Any view was better than the saved image of how he watched Lysandre's sleeping form as he left his letter for him to be found. His hand had hovered over the curve of his face, but he didn't dare touch him one last time.

If Xerosic thought that him seeing Lysandre last night was a mistake, he didn't feel the need to say so. His true thoughts on the matter were made perfectly clear the morning before. He cautioned, and rightly so, that such a choice may only lead to further agony. It was true that it might have been easier to leave without saying goodbye, not that Lysandre had any clue that he was doing so. It was just stubborn nostalgia and a healthy amount of inflicted guilt that pushed his actions. Let it go on the record that Malva was good at her job.

The top scientist continued to indulge his friend, which was the perfect and much needed distraction that his mind craved. He cheerfully, as much cheer as was possible, told him how he stuffed himself on good food and enjoyed fine company. He spoke of Mable's excited kiss right as the fireworks began. He laughed at the fact that she was such a hopeless romantic at heart, not that his old heart was completely immune.

That managed to get a small smile to form on the Professor.

When Augustine finally led the conversation for the last leg of the trip, it mainly focused on what Xerosic's plans were for the rest of the week, month, year. What projects he would be finishing or new ones that he had yet to start. There was some teasing that the scientist should get engaged, Xerosic rolled his eyes, but truthfully found Augustine's interest in his love life to be charming. That charm was quick to switch to the creeping sadness that each man was choosing to ignore. It was a building cloud that they knew was present, but neither wanted to be the one to address it. Just a few more moments of pretending that the day was the same as any other day, that they were just going on a trip and later would both be invited to dinner by Aliana.

They could both complain about the cold to garner pity from the other scientists. They wouldn't have bought it from Xerosic, but Augustine was sure to have hot beverages brought to him and plush blankets tossed around his body. All those thoughts were unrealistic, Xerosic wanted to scold himself for allowing such ideas to invade when the truth was nothing of the sort. The scientist was well aware why Augustine was talking the way he was, it was similar as to why his mind tried to deny what was about to occur, it was his way of showing that he was going to miss Xerosic. He just didn't want to say the actual words. Xerosic didn't want to say such a thing either, that would put it to voice and crumble the act that they were both participating in, they both just decided that it was best to leave it implied.

They parked near the cabins that framed the outside of the site. The buildings almost looked like they belonged in a holiday themed card with the sight glitter of frost that had yet to melt from their shingles. The light bounced around strangely in the space, much like it always did in an alien, otherworldly sense. Xerosic couldn't help but stare at the weapon as he slowly exited the car, its own strange light caused the unnatural glow to reflect of the frost and chilled panes of glass in the cabin windows.

 Never before had it looked like such a daunting sight. Perhaps he was just feeling what all the "un-chosen" had felt that day when it first sprouted from the earth, he could see how intimidating the structure could seem to those without the assurance that they were free from its blast. Of course even at that moment, the weapon wasn't for him. It never was, he was blessed with always being a chosen member. That didn't mean he didn't have a healthy fear for such a ancient device. He saw firsthand what power it possessed. Now he would see that power again, but this time it wouldn't be a nameless face or someone that he cared little for that would be a victim.

AZ was as stoic a sight as always, towering above the frosted grass with the swirls of crystal-formed illumination decorating his mane. He turned, his dark eyes unreadable, and motioned the Professor to join at his side to offer a few words. Last rites, Xerosic's mind immediately supplied and instantly he regretted the dark pit that such a thought opened in his gut. He was fine killing so many, never shed a tear with the loss of human life. Yet watching the now mournful face of AZ comforting a man who had chosen a death march, it filled him with unease.

Xerosic took the moment, honestly he just wanted an excuse to look away, to check messages on his device, every single one was from Mable. They started off questioning at first, _"Something is bothering Lysandre, do you know what is going on?"_

Soon though, they became more demanding, more panicked in nature, _"Xerosic! Answer me, what is going on? Don't do this to me again, tell me what is happening!"_

He felt instant guilt crawling up his spine for choosing yet again to keep her in the dark on his dealings. It wasn't that he believed that she couldn't handle it, but he knew it would have troubled her greatly and left her with a burden similar to his own. She didn't need to bear witness to what was going to occur. She had seen enough death to last her many lifetimes, they all had. Xerosic just hoped, pleaded really to any power that still cared to exist in their world, that she would understand why he chose to handle it in his way, she surely would after some initial shock. She might have some frustration and he, more work ahead of him in win back the trust he had finally gained.  

Xerosic gathered up his strength and put on his bravest face before he finally returned his device, with all messages to be ignored for the time being, to his pocket. The Professor was the one who was making such a decision, the least the scientist could do now was to offer his support to the best of his ability. What a world though, never would he had thought that this would be an act of mercy he would actively take a role in. That was what gave him some peace for the act, it was mercy that the Professor deserved.

 Xerosic saw some of the suffering with his own eyes, Augustine really wasn't living much. Even though the scientist could think of countless arguments to fight against the action, it still left the Professor to live in a world that would continue to harm him. Would the visions of the dead that haunted him ever cease? Xerosic didn't know if there was any technology in his disposal to help him find such an answer, let alone help give the man he grew accustomed to calling a friend any comfort.

AZ and the Professor stood near the weapon's base, whatever speech that the giant felt to give had passed. They just remained in place, perhaps waiting for a few more rays of sun to cut through the overcast. Xerosic jogged up to meet them. The giant turned to greet him with solemn eyes, his large hand rested at the Professor's shoulder. There was the occasional squeeze, a silent reminder to the Professor that he was supported.

"How are you feeling?" The scientist asked on his approach, instantly he scolded himself for such a moronic question. Certainly, he was just peachy and his days sparkling with smiles.

Augustine almost chuckled, the sound he made only hinted at such, "I've been better," He managed a strained smile for his friend, "I'm just tired." He gave a shuddering sigh that almost morphed into a light sob, his voice remained thick with emotion, "I'm not ready, but at the same time I am. Does that make any sense?"

AZ spoke up in an attempt to settle, saying what the scientist was already thinking, "You don't have to go through with anything you don't wish to." He knelt down so he could look Augustine in the eyes, "You always have options, remember what I've told you. You have a choice."

Augustine nodded slowly, closed his eyes away from the swirling light that continued to dance all around them, and eventually leaned into the giant for a hug. Once they parted he turned towards Xerosic who gave him a tentative hug as well. The scientist couldn't enclose the Professor quite like AZ, but it appeared that the act was appreciated regardless. It was unclear whether the hug was for Augustine or for him, it really only seemed to pull the sadness around them all tighter. It was the sign that he had really made his choice, he was ready to leave. Augustine's cane was handed over to the surprise of the shorter man, "I won't need it, besides I should be honored to walk on my own for once in my life, shouldn't I?"

Xerosic simply nodded in response and clenched his aged fingers around the worn handle almost protectively. He awkwardly shuffled his feet back to give the Professor space. The trim of his old uniform was just present at his wrist with the way his jacket rode up with his movements. It was perhaps overprotection, but there was no guarantee that standing so close to the weapon would be safe for any of them. It wasn't supposed to be safe for at least one of them.

 He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat to calm some rising fear and called out to the Professor one final time, "Profess- Augustine, it has been an honor knowing you. Auf bald, mein Freund." Xerosic was never one to be good at saying farewell, there was still something too unreal about what was to occur. It was hard to fully accept.

"Adieu mon ami." He had paused before he said "adieu", almost choosing to say "until we meet again" instead. However, it wouldn't have been the truth. The goodbyes they were giving each other were far more final than that.

With the towering flower as his goal and legs that finally felt more strength than he ever gave them credit for, he made his first completely unaided steps since he first awoke in the tower so many months ago. Every step closer made the crisp sounds of life fill his ears and nearly overwhelm his senses. All else began to be drowned out by singing birds, rustling leaves, and the soft voices of many who had been robbed from the world just more than a year prior.

He was close enough now that he could feel that comforting warmth he felt once before, that time he stood near the weapon's base and wondered what it would have been like to reach out to it. He wanted to then just for curiosity and also for the urge he had to let that warmth blanket him in its comforting safety, but that was before he actually knew what such a thing would have meant for him. If it wasn't for AZ's interference he would have met his end without meaning to, in a way he almost wished that AZ had left him be.  He could have let him die without any real knowledge of his action, but that wasn't in the giant's nature.

He knew what such an act meant now and despite that, he still wanted to feel that same promise of comfort. Deep down he knew that he was ready to leave, he was ready to join those he could only see in occasional fragments. His waking world had been plagued for too long with hauntings. Every day he was reminded countless times that his lab would always remain empty and useless. He too, with his knowledge, was now seemingly useless given that skill could no longer be used. It was tragic, but even that was tolerable to him. It was the truth that weighed him down. The truth that someone he cared for so greatly ripped so many others he loved from his life.

The heat, the sounds, the very aura engulfed Augustine as he stood with the swirling rays marking his body. His coat came to rest in a crumpled pile, holocaster slipping from the confines of the pocket. It felt like a spring morning, pleasant weather paired with the smell of rain. Everything else was so easily forgotten as his ears were filled with nothing but the sounds of the other side, soon he would finally be able to step across the barrier he had been trapped behind. Perhaps his eyes welled up, it was nearly overwhelming to him. The life before the weapon fired was so clear to him in that moment. Laughter, the sounds of a day being planned with family, people moving in and out from the nearby cabins, he could hear it all.

The dampness was now running down his cheeks, he could hear them so perfectly. All those who had lost their lives, all those that were not deemed worthy. Even faces the Professor saw in passing, how could anyone claim they weren't worthy? Kalos was so beautiful before, not perfect, but it was still perfectly beautiful in its flaws. He missed it so much.

His palm hovered over the crystal-like surface, its heat already radiating into his bare palm. He could feel his breath wanting to pull from the deepest regions of his lungs, his very essence in a deadly tug-o-war trying to escape his body.

Through the noise that consumed him he could just make out the voice of another. It was frantic and loud, trying to call him back from his standing. At that point it was too late, his breath pushed out with a gasp as his hand flattened against the weapon's base. There was a force, a push as the grand device reacted violently to his touch. Augustine felt weightless, his body knocked into the air like he weighed nothing at all. His ears rang and his vision filled with patchy white light. His body felt as though it was rushed with nearly boiling water, setting each and every nerve on fire only to leave it numb and dull. When he met the ground, he didn't even feel the sickly crack it made on the frozen earth. All feeling was quickly leeching from his form, his vision continuing to blur.

Through his fog he could barely make out the blurry body limping across the field to reach him. He just continued to lay limp and listen to the surrounding voices were chopping in and out as the spots of white in his sight began to fill with black.

"AUGUSTINE NO!" Lysandre wailed, he pushed his bruised, injured legs to carry him faster to his lover's still form. In his panicked state he didn't even care to pass a look at his top scientist or ancient ancestor, "Oh please no!" He cried as he pulled Augustine's limp body off from the dirt and grass and into his arms, nestling the smaller man at his thudding chest. He ignored the way the large crystal petals of the awful weapon were finally coming together to close. All he could focus on was the body he held. He shook Augustine in hopes that he might stir and begged for his eyes to open, "You can't do this to me!"

He shot the scientist a dangerous look when he made to approach, which went without initial notice. Xerosic's hand was outstretched, shaky, "Lysandre," He gasped, "You are injured."

There was hardly time to react when Lysandre screamed, "YOU DID THIS!"

All the scientist could do was brace himself when he saw the Director's broad fist come swinging through the air. It stopped short, Lysandre's wrist held back by AZ's own hand. His voice boomed with surprising power and force, his stance over his descendent dwarfed him by comparison, "YOU ARE TO BLAME! IT WAS YOUR ACTIONS THAT CAUSED THIS!"

Lysandre ripped his arm free, his face twisted with an ugly scowl. He wanted to argue, scream, curse all for allowing Augustine to meet such a fate, but he instead only clung to him harder, his face burning with a mix of rage a deep drowning pain, "Please, please, please." He continued to plead, "I can't accept this, please come back to me. I love you, please! Augustine, don't leave."

Augustine could only hear the faintest of echoes around him, the barest touch of someone's arms clutching his form, but once his vision completely darkened he heard and felt nothing more.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

It took a while for Augustine to realize that he was conscious. His senses felt scattered, fragments that were free to wander wherever they pleased. They were forming together, slowly pulling his mind and body back into a single, solitary vessel. It left him feeling so lost, like a baby born into nothingness, left to fend for themself without any guidance or knowledge. New sensation made him aware that he had feet to stand on and soon made use of them once he fathomed how to put them to into motion.

 He stood in what seemed like an inky endless void. His steps wobbled when placed against the unclear surface. He was unsure exactly what it was he was walking over. Solid ground he imagined, but without the feeling of something solid for his feet to press against, his mind continued to work to figure out the strange feeling. It wasn't until he saw it, a yellowed light that glowed out in front of him. He followed it, having nothing else in sight to serve as a guide. Somehow, with the pull his body felt towards it, he just knew he was meant to go towards the dim beacon.

Once he approached, the light filled the rest of the dark space, erasing the shadows with a dim view of the surrounding room. Recollection instantly flashed before him. The room, the space, he knew the very spot so well. He knew the very place in time that he was currently standing in. There, laid out center for him to see, was his body back in the same bed that Lysandre had ordered for him. The very man sitting by that body's side holding its cold weakening hands. His broad shoulders were quaking and tears were falling on his body's face as Lysandre leaned in close to kiss the pale skin of his forehead.

The surrounding monitors were dark and silent, plugs pulled from their sockets and life support left to fail. Augustine was witnessing Lysandre saying his goodbye, he was ready to let Augustine go and accept his inevitable death.

Augustine approached the bedside, clutching his own chest, his hand running through his body's own. It couldn't be real, his mind hammered. He remembered being in that place before, before he woke, before his life in the tower, before he chose to die. He remembered how he sank onto the bed, laying much like his still body and waking up to the feeling of being clutched in his lover's embrace.

Augustine stepped back, his hands tangled into his own hair while he tried and tried to make sense of what was happening to him. Was this his curse? Would he always be forced to live in a continued loop without any hope of escape. He wanted to scream, there would be no one to hear him if he did. Then he settled his view on Lysandre's shadowed face, his soft touches as he waited for his love to breathe his final breath. He could do it again if he wished to, go back and live again. Would anything change if he did so?

No, he reasoned. It wouldn't change the fact that his friends were gone, that the children were dead, and all the pokémon extinct. It wouldn't change the fact that Lysandre caused him deep suffering by his hand. Though he supposed as he watched the man cradle his corpse, he could forgive him for some of it.

"What will you choose?"

There was that question again, posed by that familiar voice, though now he knew who that voice belonged to and could finally turn himself to see her.

"Diantha." He trailed , not able to say anymore. He just let her vision fill his sight, a striking beauty he never thought he'd be ever blessed with again. She was a figure of celestial elegance, her white clothes almost giving off their own otherworldly aura. Her face was soft and loving, eyes shining from her own mix of emotions at seeing her dear friend before her.

"I've missed you so much my dear." She spoke, holding out her arms for Augustine as he fell into her embrace, "We've all missed you so much."

Augustine sniffed, his eyes squeezing shut to hold back the sea that was trying to break through, and pulled away so he could gaze on her again. Shaky hands ran up the side of her face, he was just so overwhelmed by her presence.

"Augustine." A voice ruffed by a dry throat creaked, "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you."

Both Diantha and the Professor turned to see the hunched figure of Lysandre, he was pleading for Augustine's forgiveness, another kiss was pressed into limp curls, "Je t'aime plus que la vie elle-meme." He left his face to rest against Augustine's, "You will always be the most precious to me."

It pulled at the Professor's heart so savagely hearing those sweet words said with such deep sadness. It made him ache for his love to have to suffer such pain. He stood at a crossroads between his choices. Diantha waited patiently and didn't offer any persuasion, she just watched with gentle sadness at how Augustine tried to trail his hand across Lysandre's face.

"I must leave you." He whispered, stepping back from the bed. He shielded his vision from the sight of Lysandre's soft weeping, he just couldn't watch such a sight any longer, "What happens now?" He asked meekly, "Are you taking me with you?"

It scared him at first with how morose Diantha's face appeared to him, she took a moment to breathe before she explained, her hand hovered out in front of her as though she was unsure of what to do, "I will, but first..." She finally placed her hands at his shoulders and pulled Augustine close, motioning him to join her as they sat on the floor together, "You have to die Augustine, I'm so sorry, but you must suffer it again."

Augustine gripped her hand, his fear returning, and swallowed hard, "At least, "He leaned his head against her chest, his voice stuttering slightly, "I'm not alone this time, right?"

She gripped his hand with just as much strength and pressed her face into his hair for a moment, "I'll be here the entire time."

It was as painful as he remembered, but this time it felt so much more final. He knew that this time was his final experience. He gasped for air that refused to remain and his heart beat against his sore ribcage. He felt his lungs fail to breathe and his head ache from the lack of oxygen. Diantha just softly whispered her reassurances and stroked his hair, while Lysandre, holding his body, did much of the same.

Then the pain simply came to an abrupt end and in that moment, his choice was final.

Augustine remained against Diantha's chest for a while longer. It wasn't an easy thing to grasp, the fact that he just chose to let himself die. He reached up and wiped his eyes with his forearm, Diantha continued to rub his hair and wait until he was ready to stand.

"Thank you." He muttered once the pair rose from the floor.

Diantha cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "Whenever you are ready, we can go. You can take your time if you wish, you have all the time in the world now."

Their hands gripped each other hard, a tether that didn't wish to release. Regardless of where they now stood in time, Augustine still couldn't forget all the time that had passed when he chose to wake.  

Augustine was brought back from his thoughts when he felt a hot tongue against his arm, followed by a rumbling purr. Lysandre's Pyroar walked from his master's side, greeting the Professor with the feeling of his warm mane brushing against him.

"Do you want to come with us?" He asked, kneeling a bit to scratch behind the Pyroar's round ears.

He shook his large head and looked solemnly towards his master again, returning to the bed and dropping his chin next to where Lysandre continued to sit. His bright eyes peered back towards the Professor, almost pleading in a way. Augustine nodded his head.

"I'll wait just for a while yet, Pyroar will keep me company." He finally decided.

Diantha gave her him another tight hug almost refusing to let go, "Just call for me whenever you are ready, I'll be waiting for you."

Augustine couldn't really say for certain when or how she left. Like a blink she was just gone and he had to remind himself that he could call her whenever he was ready. Pyroar gave a low call when his hands dug carefully into his fur. With Pyroar by his side he felt some support.

He could only watch Lysandre now, no longer able to feel the warmth of his skin under his touch. He had traded out one world for another, one side of the mirror for the other. Pyroar rubbed against his palm that was hovering awkwardly demanding attention, the creature's warmth was helping to supplement the dreariness that hung over every being in the room.

The Flare Leader was in mourning, his partner was still in his arms and would now never wake. Xerosic had tried, but failed in waking the Professor from his slumber and Lysandre knew he had to accept that it just was never possible for him to have lived. Augustine's body was placed back against the mattress gently and he brought the blanket up to cover the still face completely, but not before pressing one last kiss against his face.

 

-

-

-

-

-

 

Lysandre had Augustine buried in Couriway Town, somewhere tucked away from the population. The grave overlooked the beautiful waterfall that was always such a calming sight. Of course, in that moment any memories it brought were laced with the bereavement that Lysandre still had to deal with from Augustine's passing. He took it upon himself to care for the grave, it was just a private funeral that he planned on his own. He didn't wish to have any others near during the time he took for the ceremony. After a few silent words he took his time in decorating the freshly broken ground with a series of flowers, finally marking it with a central wreath that was left to lean against the unmarked stone.

Then life simply continued to move on. Lysandre, the Team Flare Leader, continued to work towards the betterment of his society. Before the summer faded like the leaves that soon fell from their branches, many projects were overseen and finished. There was a surplus of produce thanks to Celosia's contractors building elaborate hothouses to grow a variety of produce year round.

Lysandre presented himself regularly to his people, taking it upon himself to speak to them personally to gauge their needs. Malva was usually close on his arm, acting as another figurehead that the people could turn to for leadership. The population was full of hope for their future thanks to their joined actions. Quite often did the masses toast the names of their king and self-appointed queen.

When November came around again, the air chilling, but homes remaining plenty warm for all. Lysandre approved the idea for a celebration for his people. As the night progressed, him and Malva stood on top of the chilled tower and watched their citizens with interest down below. The pride on the streets was evident, even with only half the city bright with light.

"Too bad we couldn't get any fireworks, huh?" She remarked cheerfully as she brought a sweet wine to her lips that was made from that years grapes, not terribly strong but quite delicious and smooth. 

Lysandre took an offered glass for himself, "Perhaps next year." He mused, "The children would enjoy that wouldn't they?"

Malva nodded and shivered from the cold, bringing her coat tight around her body, "I'm heading back inside, I've seen the city from this view many times, dear." She turned back to Lysandre when he didn't follow, "Are you coming with me?"

Lysandre gave her a polite smile, "Soon, I just want to enjoy the fresh air for a moment longer."

Malva shrugged and called the elevator for herself, "I will not come fetch you if you freeze, come join me when you want my company again."

Once the doors closed Lysandre continued to watch the people celebrating below while his breath form trails out ahead of him. With a passing chill, he lightly rubbed the sides of his face to warm the skin.

Unseen to him, Augustine pulled his hand away from Lysandre's face and continued to stand close by his side and watch the city lights below. He couldn't lean against the taller man like he wished to, but what closeness they could share still made the Professor happy. His eyes came closed and he was just content to listen to the surrounding sounds and Lysandre's soft breathing.

"I still miss you Augustine." Lysandre wistfully sighed, causing the Professor to turn with some surprise, "I often wonder how things could have been different if you lived." He groaned and brought a hand to muss up his hair, "You wouldn't have been happy here with me, would you?"

Augustine answered even though he knew it couldn't be heard, "I wouldn't have been. I would have suffered too much trying to live with what you had done."

Lysandre's voice shook, "I can't ever be sorry enough for hurting you, I hope you can someday forgive me." He dropped his face into his hands, Augustine layered his hands over them and pressed a cold kiss against Lysandre's exposed fingers, "I do forgive you," He gazed upon the other man with such a mixture of love and lingering sorrow, "I just can't be with you."

Lysandre stepped back and rubbed his chilled hands. Then he rubbed his eyes to erase the evidence of his moment. He continued to stare out ahead, his vision slowly dropping to his feet. Augustine stood just below, letting their eyes blend together like they once did in the past. Grey meeting blue, but lost on Lysandre's eyes that just couldn't see that his love was with him in that moment. He shifted back out to the crowds and let time tick by for a bit longer. With another shiver that shook through him, Lysandre made the choice to finally escape the cold.

Augustine pulled away and reached out one last time, passing his touch against Lysandre's elbow. Before he stepped into the elevator, there was a moment that he whipped his head around like just for a brief moment the touch was solid.

Augustine knew that he had spend enough time in that world and said his final farewell, "Adieu mon amour."

The doors clicked to a close, his love now gone from him and his words left soundless in the wind. He tilted his head when he heard the rumble of the Pyroar, his palm rested against his head lovingly, "Are you ready to come with me, mon feu chat?"

Pyroar tilted his head to the side, not offering a clear response. He was glad to follow the Professor to the ground level of the tower, but soon ceased his movements.

"What is wrong?" Augustine asked with concern, he dropped down in front of the creature and wrapped his arms around his plush neck in a hug, "You don't wish to leave him do you?" The Pyroar gave a confirming call and pressed into Augustine's body to deepen the embrace, "I see," He gave the pokémon a few more loving pats, "The loyalty of a pokémon can never be questioned can it? I will miss you my friend, thank you for your company."

They separated and the Pyroar eventually faded away from his view, he was to return near his trainer's side. It was where he always wished to remain.

Diantha was present to greet him in the center of the ground floor, she clutched Augustine's hand and silently led him to the tower doors. She stopped short of them and finally turned to Augustine again, "Are you ready?"

He nodded, his hand shaking slightly, "I am. I want to go home now."

Diantha continued to hold his hand gently but firmly, the final barrier in front of them both. With a nod between them they opened the doors together and walked out into warm, inviting light. The sounds he once heard in broken sections of tape were pure and far too beautiful for words.

Once his eyes adjusted to the brilliant rays, he was filled with unbridled joy. He was ushered into his new existence by so many familiar faces, all waiting for him in the bright plaza center.

They came forth first, the five of them. Running through the welcoming crowd. He dropped Diantha's hand and bounded towards the children to meet them. His legs dropped, but he just didn't care, and he allowed himself to be completely encased in their hugging arms. All he could do was sob tears of joy at seeing their lively faces. There was nothing that could be said to explain what he was feeling, he just continued to hug each of them and thank whoever would listen for the reunion.

Others soon emerged as well. Sophie and Cosette dropped to the ground with him and held him tightly. Dexio and Sina came into view and Augustine held open his arms for them to join, they did. With every apology that he sobbed out, he was met with the words that everything was fine, that no one blamed him for their fate. Once he was finally able to stand on his own two feet again, familiar growls caught his ears. His team, his pokémon, they had been waiting patiently for him as well.

He was no longer caught on the wrong side of the mirror. When his team surrounded him, he could reach out and touch their faces and feel them when they snuggled up against him. All his visions were now very real and completely tangible. All those he mourned, all those he missed so greatly that his heart and chest wanted to heave and ache, were now with him finally. All he wanted to do now was keep them close and never lose them all again.

The Kalos Professor walked with all those he loved, his students, his coworkers, his pokémon, his dearest friends. His soft grey eyes sparkled with new found glee and he soon found an easy smile to match. Augustine had finally reclaimed his life. Even after being claimed by the clutches of death. Even though his thoughts still ached for Lysandre, reminding him how he knew he still loved him despite everything he had done.

He was finally at peace.

 

~The End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this story back in March and I had no idea the audience that it would generate. I'm am so honored that so many picked up this story and loved it enough to leave comments and even have discussions about it with other people. Thank you all so much for the support!
> 
> Now that we are at the end, I would like to talk about what is next for me regarding projects with this pairing.
> 
> Some of you already know, but for the rest of you Shadowed Visage is getting a sequel plus another short. When those will happen I am not entirely clear, but they are in the works. 
> 
> I would love to hear peoples thoughts and possible questions regarding this fic. If you feel the desire to do so you can come find me on Tumblr, cherry-jacks and send me some messages there. I'm always happy to talk about projects I've done or are planning. 
> 
> Again, thank you everyone for reading this story and *hands out boxes of tissues* I'm just so dang happy that you have been a reader.


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